


A Vicious Game

by sinead_smith (smac89)



Series: The Endless [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Sandman (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smac89/pseuds/sinead_smith
Summary: The God of Chaos and the Goddess of Secrets tear down the natural order of the universe in order to be reunited, with cosmic consequences. The Endless try to move pieces around the board, playing an eternal game of chess, but Darcy has never been a pawn.She is a queen.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Loki
Series: The Endless [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753660
Comments: 202
Kudos: 106





	1. The Nightmare Emerges

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the Vicious Game emotional rollercoaster. Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times, and ensure your emotions are properly buckled in.
> 
> Video and photography are strictly forbidden, but you can purchase a copy of A Profound Silence at the following site:
> 
> http://thebp.site/239644
> 
> All proceeds go towards the publishing of my other series, The Ragnarok Cycle.
> 
> Thank you, and have a nice day!

Of all the strange turns her life had taken in the last year and a half, Darcy could never have imagined she would be in a car with the _actual_ Devil. She glanced over at the driver’s side, eying the dark-haired man who had volunteered to take her home.

“Nice car,” she said with a casualness she did not feel.

“Thank you. It’s vintage,” Lucifer replied, uncharacteristically quiet. He seemed occupied by his own thoughts, and Darcy wasn’t inclined to pry. The claw-wounds on her face and shoulder throbbed, and most of her energy was focused on keeping a handle on the pain. Whatever it was that was stalking the Dreaming had done quite a number on her. 

She still didn’t know what the creature was and how it had managed to find her. Denizens of the Dreaming were often dangerous, but this creature had destroyed multiple skelligs--individual dreamscapes--and that wasn’t something a normal denizen could do. Darcy’s adopted brother Daniel had told her that their father was working on tracking down the creature, but she hadn’t heard anything else.

It was about a half hour drive from LA to Huntington Beach with no traffic, and at this time of night there wasn’t much to speak of. Darcy had lost track of time somewhere north of 4 AM, and all she knew was that she was exhausted and in pain.

When they pulled into the driveway of Darcy’s foster mother’s home, she immediately knew something was wrong.

“The front door is open,” Lucifer observed, his body language changing to full alert.

“I see that,” Darcy replied, getting out of the convertible. She started to rush toward the house but Lucifer grabbed her arm.

“Let me go first,” he told her. “I am invulnerable to all weapons but hell-forged ones. Well, most of the time, anyway.”

Darcy eyed him again. “How do we know if this is that time?” she demanded.

“It is,” he replied. “Trust me.”

“I don’t, but go ahead,” Darcy gestured magnanimously.

Lucifer stepped up to the doorway and peered in. The house was dark and silent. “Hello?” he called. There was no answer. He turned to look back at Darcy. “What’s your foster mother’s name?”

“Dr Cecily Simmons,” she replied.

“Dr. Simmons?” Lucifer called into the doorway. “I’m a friend. I have Darcy here with me.”

Darcy came up behind Lucifer. “Mom? It’s me. Are you here?”

The house remained perfectly still. Lucifer stepped through the doorway. The rules of the threshold didn’t apply to celestials; he wouldn’t be abandoning the majority of his powers by entering without permission.

Darcy stayed glued to his back as they slowly and quietly made their way down the entry hallway. The family photos were all on the floor, the glass smashed to little pieces. The furniture in the living room was overturned and broken, and the kitchen had been completely wrecked.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” Lucifer said in an undertone, and pointed. Long, deep gashes bisected the far wall.

“Yeah, me neither,” Darcy said grimly. “Come on, Han Solo. Let’s clear the rest of the house.”

“Who?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Forget it,” Darcy muttered, and headed toward the bedrooms. They were equally trashed, bedding shredded and keepsakes smashed. But the more that Darcy saw, the more it looked like something throwing a temper tantrum than destruction with a purpose. That gave her a glimmer of hope and she pressed on.

The door to Cece’s walk-in closet was visibly damaged, but when Darcy tried the handle, it wouldn’t turn. Darcy pounded her fist on the door. “Mom?” she called. “Mom, are you in there?”

A long silence followed, and just as Darcy was about to force the door, Cece’s voice answered. “Dee? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom, it’s me! Open up?”

“Prove it,” Cece said waveringly through the door.

Darcy frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”

Lucifer appeared in the bedroom doorway and came to hover over her shoulder. “Did you find them?”

“Yeah, they’re in here,” Darcy replied softly. “The door is reinforced.”

“That likely saved them,” Lucifer observed. “Smart thinking. Why?”

“Cece lived through the LA riots,” Darcy told him. “She always wanted us to have some place to retreat to so we could feel safe.”

“Ah,” he said.

“Dee?” Cece called again. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here, Mom,” Darcy said, placing her hands flat against the door. “What do you need me to do?”

“Tell me something only you would know,” Cece called back.

Darcy took a deep breath. “Um… Okay. Uh, when we first met, right after they arrested Gertrude, I asked you if you were an angel. Then I told you you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. It was just the two of us in the room. You gave me a little stuffed rabbit. I still had him when I finally got placed with you permanently. His name was David.”

The handle turned and the door cracked open, revealing a sliver of Cece’s face. “Who is he?” she demanded, her gaze focused on Lucifer.

“He’s good,” Darcy assured her. “He’s been helping me out.”

Cece flung the door open and fell into Darcy’s arms. Darcy staggered but managed to stay on her feet. “It sounded just like you,” Cece sobbed into Darcy’s shoulder. “I would never have let it in otherwise.”

“What was it?” Darcy demanded. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Cece said with loud sniffing, trying to get herself under control.

“It was a monster!”

Darcy’s head snapped up. In the back of the closet, Sleipnir crouched protectively in front of Jesse, who had his knees drawn tightly to his chest. He rocked back and forth endlessly, making a quiet moaning sound.

“It was a monster, Mama,” Sleipnir said again. He didn’t leave Jesse’s side, and there was a taste of magic around the boy.

Darcy disentangled himself from her foster mother and entered the closet, kneeling in front of her step-son. “What did it look like?” she asked softly, reaching out to ruffle Sleipnir’s dark, shiny hair.

“It was round,” Sleipnir replied, scooting closer to Darcy. “Round like a ball and covered in eyes. It had long tentacles, like a _beskid_ , and razors at the end of them.”

Darcy’s eyes widened at the description, trying to imagine the creature in her mind. It was surely the same creature that had attacked her, that was terrorizing the Dreaming. She ruffled Sleipnir’s hair again.

“You’re so brave, kiddo,” she told him. “I’m so proud of you.”

Sleipnir smiled wanly and then turned to look at Jesse. “He’s really, really frightened,” he said worriedly. “I tried to keep him calm but my magicks weren’t strong enough.”

“I know you did your best,” Darcy said. “Your mother would be proud of you, too.” She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head before getting to her feet. She left the closet and went into the bedroom where Cece was fearfully eyeing Lucifer.

“You should leave now,” Darcy told Lucifer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he protested. “Whatever did this could come back.”

“I’m going to summon my father now, and it would be best if you _weren’t here_ ,” she told him.

He blinked several times in quick succession. “Yes. I completely agree. Here.” He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a black business card. He handed it to her. It read, in gold letters:

_Lucifer Morningstar_

_Owner, Lux_

_Crime Solving Devil_

It had a phone number on the back. Darcy tucked it into the pocket of her duster jacket. “Thank you,” she said. “For all your help.”

“The Detective will want to speak with you in the morning,” he told her. “I’ll let her know what happened here.”

“Not yet,” Darcy said quickly. “Please. We can talk about it in the morning. I’m going to take my family somewhere safe, get some sleep, and I’ll be at the police station in the morning.”

“Fair enough,” He agreed. “Call me if you need absolutely anything at all.”

“I will,” Darcy promised.

He nodded and picked his way out of the house. Cece grabbed Darcy’s hand. “You’re going to call your father _here_?” she hissed. “Why?”

“Because whatever attacked you also attacked me and is hunting in the Dreaming,” Darcy told her. “And Dad needs to know about this. Someone is clearly targeting me. And Dad can track it down and destroy it.”

Cece blinked and seemed to see the bandage on Darcy’s face for the first time. “It attacked you?” she echoed. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Darcy assured her. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her father’s sigil. She cupped it in both hands and breathed on it, waiting until the metal was warm. “Morpheus,” she said softly. “Lord of Dreams. Keeper of Stories. I hold your sigil and I summon you. I am in grave need of your help. I am a Scion of the Endless and I summon you.”

For a long time nothing happened. Cece looked around nervously. “Did he hear you?” she whispered.

“Oh, he heard me,” Darcy muttered. “Whether he chooses to come is another matter.”

“He scares me,” Cece admitted.

“He scares me sometimes, too.”

Just when Darcy was about to give up and summon Daniel instead, The temperature in the room plummeted twenty degrees. Then Dream coalesced. He looked taller than he usually did, his spiky, unruly hair brushing the ceiling. He looked around, observed the destruction, and then shrunk a few inches. He had his cloak wrapped around him, the colors shimmering even in the darkness.

**“Daughter,”** he said stiffly, then fell silent. **“Who harmed you?”** he demanded, reaching out one pale hand to touch the bandage on her face. **“Who did this?”**

“The thing that’s stalking the Dreaming,” Darcy replied shortly. It came after me and then it came after my family.”

**“Who told you? Daniel.”** Dream answered his own question. **“Of course. You are his one weakness.”**

“What is it?” Darcy demanded. “Is it a denizen?”

**“No,”** Dream replied. **“It is a Nightmare.”**

“Whose?” Darcy asked. “Is it one of yours?”

**“No,”** Dream said again. **“I have not yet identified who it belongs to. Are you sure it is targeting you?”**

“Pretty damn sure,” Darcy said firmly, crossing her arms. “What the hell is going on, Dad? Why didn’t you warn me to stay out of the Dreaming?”

Dream was silent for several moments. **“I apologize,”** he said very quietly. **“I should have warned you.”**

Darcy blinked. She hadn’t expected to get an apology that quickly. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

He inclined his head. **“I know you did not mean them. I understand your anger.”**

Darcy gestured to her family behind her. “I need to get them somewhere safe. Can you you escort us to the Coven?”

**“I will take you there myself,”** he said. **“We will go quickly, so the mortals’ minds will need to be shielded.”**

“Cece can wear my cloak if you will carry Jesse under yours,” Darcy said. “Sleipnir has been in the Dreaming before. He knows what to expect.”

**“Very well. Bring the boy to me.”**

Dream brought them into the middle of the Greencoven, to the consternation of several Greenchildren. But when they recognized Darcy, one of them ran to fetch the Greenmother. Dream did not immediately leave, but stood at a respectful distance while the Greenchildren fussed over Darcy. The bandages on her wounds were removed and someone had a pot of _mjorga_ to dab over the stitches.

“They _sewed_ the wounds closed,” Idún said, horrified. “How barbaric.”

Darcy grunted but didn’t reply. A few of the Greenchildren swarmed Cece, Jesse, and Sleipnir. Sleipnir especially got cooed over and petted, as the Sisters were happy to have him back.

Idún had just begun to remove the stitches in Darcy’s shoulder when the Greenmother arrived. She took one look at the situation and rounded on Dream. “What did you do?” she demanded fiercely.

“It wasn’t him!” Darcy exclaimed before the two of them could get their stride. She did not need them getting into one of their disagreements at the moment. “It’s not his fault, Grandmother.”

“Then what happened?” the Greenmother asked, setting her hands on her hips. “Who has attacked my granddaughter?”

**“A Nightmare,”** Dream replied.

The Greenmother narrowed her eyes. “Whose? One of yours?”

**“I am certain you know whose,”** Dream replied ominously.

The Greenmother sighed deeply. “Lorelei.”


	2. In Which Darcy Is Awesome, As Usual

Loki was exhausted. Little Freyr needed milk pumped into his stomach every few hours, and Loki dared not sleep in between feedings lest the child take ill. Angrboða insisted on helping him through the night, fetching more milk whenever they ran out. Loki briefly wondered where the milk came from, but then decided he didn’t want to know.

Freyr fussed and would not sleep unless he was being held, so Loki had him in the crook of one arm, seated on the bed with his back braced against the headboard. He had a book in his free hand, but he had stopped being able to read the words some hours ago. Angrboða had stepped out for a few minutes to deal with some business, leaving Loki alone.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, intending to rest his eyes only for a moment. But as soon as his eyelids fluttered down, he heard a familiar voice in the room.

**“Loki.”**

Loki startled and snapped his eyes open. Draumr, the Master of Dreams, stood by the side of the bed, looking down at his son-in-law. Dream looked painfully young, a foreboding sign. His age always seemed directly related to his mood. He did not wear his cloak, only a black, threadbare t shirt and black jeans. His salt-white skin was a terrible contrast with his ink-black, unruly hair. He had black voids where his eyes should be, lit by silver stars.

“Draumr,” Loki said. His instinct was to rise to his feet and bow. Despite being married to Dream’s only daughter, Loki fostered a healthy respect and fear of the Endless. But Freyr slept soundly in his arms and he had no wish to disturb the infant. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

**“You are needed home,”** Dream said gravely.

Loki frowned. “I cannot leave Jötunheimr until the manacles are removed.”

**“Who is your warden?”** Dream demanded.

“Their name is Angrboða,” Loki replied. “What is it? What has happened?”

**“My daughter has been attacked and wounded by a Nightmare. Your son is traumatized by the encounter. And…”** Dream trailed off, his mouth twisting.  **“I need your help,”** he finally admitted.

Loki felt himself go extremely still and cold. “Darcy was injured?” he asked in a low voice. “Is she…”

**“She is… as well as can be expected,”** Dream assured him.  **“She will recover, and her child is unharmed. But this affront to my sovereignty cannot be ignored.”**

“Whose Nightmare?” Loki asked. “Who created the Nightmare?”

**“Lorelei. I believe she is known to you.”**

The cold pit in Loki’s stomach deepened until he was filled with an icy, howling storm. “Yes,” he ground out from between gritted teeth. “She is known to me.”

Dream nodded.  **“Remain here. I will fetch your warden.”** He flickered away, but returned before Loki could react, holding on to Angrboða’s arm.  **“Is this your warden?”**

“They are,” Loki affirmed, carefully getting to his feet. Angrboða’s eyes were wide and frightened. “Angrboða, may I present Draumr, Master of Dreams, and my father-in-law.”

Angrboða’s eyes widened further. “You are kin to the Endless?” they whispered.

“I am. My wife is his daughter.”

Angrboða made a gesture to ward against hostile magicks and muttered to themselves, sagging weakly in Dream’s grip. “Laufey king will need to know this,” they said.

**“We do not have time, unfortunately,”** Dream said firmly.  **“You will release the Grindalokki from the manacles.”**

“I--I cannot,” Angrboða said unevenly. “I have made oaths of service to my king. I am under geis.”

Loki growled in frustration. If Angrboða was under geis, then it would be a death sentence for them to release him. And as much as he desired his freedom, he did not desire Angrboða’s death. “Bring them with us,” Loki told Draumr. “I do not believe they present a threat. They will cause no harm to Darcy or my son.”

**“Very well,”** Dream said. He glanced down at the infant in Loki’s arms.  **“And the child?”**

Loki considered the infant for a moment. “We will bring him, too.”

**“Prepare yourself, sorcerer,”** Dream warned Angrboða.  **“The Dreaming is treacherous for mortals.”**

“I am loyal to my king,” Angrboða muttered. “I will uphold my oaths. I am loyal to my king. I will uphold my oaths. I am loyal to my…”

Dream took them all into the Dreaming. Loki, who had spent many years exploring the dreaming with his close friends Freyja and Rook, was not affected. Freyr continued to sleep. But when they arrived at the Greencoven, Angrboða collapsed to the ground, still repeating their mantra.

“I am loyal to my king. I will uphold my oaths. I am loyal to my king. I will uphold my oaths…”

“ _ Loki!” _

He had maybe half a second to prepare for Darcy’s arrival, and held out a hand to deter her. “Shhh…” he cautioned.

Darcy slowed to a halt and arm’s length away, visibly confused and hurt. But it gave him a moment to look at her. She wore a sleeveless green tunic and leggings. Her hair was longer than he remembered, and it appeared as if she hadn’t kept up with the shaved side of her head since he was brought to Jötunheim.

She had three deep slices that had been treated recently with  _ mjorga _ ; one from her temple to her jaw, and two down the front of her shoulder, cutting across her collarbone. The wounds were deep and red, very new, and they woke a silent fury in his chest.

“Who is this?” Darcy asked, her blue eyes fixed on the infant.

“This is Freyr,” Loki explained. “I have become his guardian. For a time, anyway.”

Darcy inched closer until she could see the child’s face poking out from amid the blankets. “Oh. He’s adorable,” she breathed.

Loki blinked. That… was not how he expected her to react. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Revulsion, maybe? Horror? Instead she was reaching out with supplicant hands. “Let me hold him,” she demanded. He obeyed without question, carefully transferring the sleeping infant into her arms. She cradled him close to her chest, instinctively falling into the rocking rhythm that was natural as breathing to mothers.

“Look at you,” she cooed. “What a big boy you are. Look at your little nose. And look at how blue you are!”

Loki reached out and took a lock of her hair between his fingers, feeling the soft strands. “Are you well?” he asked quietly. She glanced up at him. 

“What? Oh, you mean the injuries. Yeah, I’m okay. Hurt like a motherfucker, but the  _ mjorga _ is helping. What about you? Are you okay? You still have the manacles on!”

Loki looked at the ugly, heavy ring around his wrist. “Your father found a loophole in the manacles’ binding.”

“Loophole? How?”

Loki gestured toward Angrboða, who was being curiously observed by a ring of Greenchildren standing at a respectful distance. “He brought my warden with us.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “ _ That’s _ your warden? That’s the bitch who’s been keeping you from me?” She took a step toward Angrboða, her expression ominous, but Loki stopped her with a hand on her uninjured shoulder.

“My captivity was not up to them,” he told her softly. “They serve the king of Jötunheim, and were under oaths to follow his orders.”

Darcy didn’t look convinced but said nothing.

“How is Sleipnir?” Loki asked to distract her. “Draumr said he had been traumatized.”

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, finally looking away from Angrboða. “The Nightmare attacked Cece’s house while I was gone and he held it off long enough for them to get to safety. He hasn’t left Jesse’s side since. They’re both asleep. Daniel’s keeping watch over their dreams.”

“What is being done about Lorelei?”

Darcy’s expression darkened again. “The Raven Woman and the Cornithian are hunting for the Nightmare, but the fucking bitch herself isn’t dreaming, so we have no idea where she is.”

“Has your father asked any of his siblings for help?”

Darcy shook her head. “No. He said this is a ‘personal matter’ and they can’t get involved. I don’t even try to keep up with what they can or can’t get involved with anymore.”

Loki twitched his head. “Probably best.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I missed you,” he admitted.

She smiled thinly. “I missed you too. I’m glad you're back.” She punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“I will do my best,” he promised.

By this time Angrboða had recovered from their trip through the Dreaming, and had staggered to their feet, looking around in confusion. Darcy, with a hard expression, marched over toward the Jötun sorcerer. The ring of Greenchildren parted for her.

“What the  _ fuck _ do you want?” Darcy demanded, keeping a healthy distance between them. 

Angrboða stared blankly at Darcy for several seconds. “Who… who are you?” they asked in a daze.

“I’m Loki’s  _ wife _ ,” Darcy snapped. “What the  _ fuck _ do you want Loki for?”

“He is the firstborn,” Angrboða replied. “He is to be the heir.”

Darcy, realizing Angrboða was still in no condition to provide information, rounded on Loki, who had followed her to make sure his wife didn’t harm his warden. “What is she talking about? Heir to  _ what _ ?”

“The throne of Jötunheimr,” Loki said dryly.

Darcy frowned. “What?”

“My birth progenitor happens to be Laufey King, ruler of Jötunheimr,” Loki explained. “He ordered me brought to Jötunheimr so I could be prepared to one day take his place on the throne.”

Darcy started to say something, stopped herself, and then glanced down at the infant sleeping in her arms. “They  _ kidnapped _ you,” she hissed. “They  _ stole _ you away from your family, and they expected you to just, what? Cooperate? Accept it? Are they fucking  _ serious _ ?”

Loki shook his head. “They are desperate,” he said, surprising himself by defending the planet of his true origin. “Without the Casket of Ancient Winters, the realm is crumbling, and Laufey is losing control of his War Chiefs.”

Darcy had a look of intense concentration on her face. She chewed on her lip for a few seconds. “What is that? The Casket of Ancient whatevers?”

“The Casket of Ancient Winters is the heart of Jötunheimr,” Angrboða answered. “It is the source of our power and the jewel of our realm.”

“Yes, but what does it  _ do _ ?” Darcy demanded impatiently.

“It controls our climate,” Angrboða told her. “It makes our children strong. It fattens our prey and increases our crops. It makes the glaciers form clear and pure and softens the storms. It is… it is everything.”

“And what happened to it?” Darcy asked. 

“Asgard stole it away after the war,” Angrboða said bitterly.

“So let me get this straight,” Darcy said, still gently rocking Freyr. “There’s a war. Doesn’t matter who started it or why. Asgard wins, and they take the Casket of Ancient thingies,  _ knowing _ that the planet will slowly die without it?”

“Yes,” Loki said slowly, unsure of where Darcy was going with this.

She turned to Angrboða. “If I get this Casket back for you, will you release Loki?”

Angrboða stared at Darcy with something akin to hope. “You can return the Casket? That is within your power?”

“I have a Coven full of witches who will do almost anything I ask them to,” Darcy replied confidently. “Will you trade the Casket for Loki?”

Angrboða looked uncertain. “It is for the King to decide,” they said reluctantly. “Only the King can order Loki’s release.”

Darcy huffed in frustration. “Fine. Let’s go talk to the king.”

“You can’t be serious,” Loki exclaimed in disbelief. “Darcy, the Casket is in Odin’s weapons vault. On  _ Asgard _ .”

Darcy glared at him. “Yeah. And?”

“The vault is defended by the Destroyer.  _ Nothing _ gets past the Destroyer.”

“Well, we don’t know that because I haven’t tried yet,” Darcy retorted. She looked around. “Hnoss! Over here!”

Darcy’s older sister walked over to them, giving Loki an uninterested once-over. “Yes, sister?”

“I need to steal the Casket of Ancient Winters from Odin’s weapons vault. Can we do that?”

Hnoss shrugged one shoulder. “I should think so.”

Loki blinked a few times. “You would do that for me?” he asked quietly.

Hnoss gave him a hard look. “I will do it for  _ her _ ,” she said firmly. “I tolerate your presence and I no longer desire to kill you, but I will do  _ anything _ for my sister. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Loki was happy to live with that.

“Excellent,” Darcy said, and looked around. “Where the hell is Rook?”


	3. The Detective's Epiphany

“I have to go back to Earth,” Darcy said. She still held little Freyr, reluctant to hand him over to a Greenchild and refusing to give him back to Loki.

“Why?” Loki demanded. He was as eager to be rid of the thorn manacles as he was dreading the theft of the Casket, and he did not wish for distractions or delays.

“Lorelei killed Owen and Brent,” Darcy replied darkly. “She boiled their brains in their skulls. I want to know why. Also the LAPD is pretty sure I’m somehow involved, so I need to clear my name before we do this heist on your dad’s vault.”

“Odin is  _ not _ my father,” Loki spat on pure instinct. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My apologies. And my condolences. I know Owen and Brent were your friends.”

Darcy scowled. “Yeah. I’m gonna rip Lorelei a new one when I catch up with her. Burn off all that stupid red hair.”

“You will not be facing her,” Loki said firmly. “You are with child. You cannot risk her harming Helena.”

Darcy grimaced. “I know. But let me have my fantasy.”

Loki touched her shoulder, and then her dark hair. “I like  _ your  _ hair better, you know.”

That made her smile. “Flirt.”

He smiled back and dropped his hand. “I will accompany you to Midgarðr.”

She blinked, her expression going blank. “Well, you can’t go like  _ that _ . People might stare.”

Loki frowned and glanced down at himself. He found, to his horror, that he was still in his Jötun form, his skin blue and ridged. He wore the same clothing he wore to the feast Laufey had held in his honor: leather trousers and his fur-lined vest.

He recoiled away from Darcy, trying to resist the urge to cover his face, to shield her from the sight of his red eyes and sharp teeth.

“What is it?” Darcy demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“How can you look at me like this?” he hissed at her. “I look like a monster.”

“You look like my  _ husband _ ,” Darcy insisted, stepping closer. Before he could back away further, she reached out and grabbed his hand. He tried to pull free, fearing his skin would freeze hers, but she didn’t seem affected. “Loki, you look  _ fine _ . You’re not a monster. But you’d attract a lot of attention we don’t need right now.”

He stared at her for a moment, bewildered by the expression of trust and affection on her face. How could she stand it? Finally seeing the monstrous truth that lurked beneath his skin. How could she stand beside him, hold his hand, and call him her  _ husband _ ? As if he was not a beast that drank blood and ate the flesh of animals raw.

“I… I do not know if I can restore my masque without my magicks,” he muttered, using his free hand to rub at the skin under the manacles.

Darcy looked around. “Where are they? Your warden. What’s their name?”

“Angrboða,” Loki replied numbly.

“There they are,” Darcy said, releasing Loki’s hand. She marched off toward the petite Jötun. “Hey! Hey you!”

Angrboða, who had been trying to make themselves as small as possible in order to avoid attracting notice, startled badly when Darcy yelled at them and scrambled to their feet. “Lady Darcy,” they stammered.

“Either give Loki back enough of his magick that he can mask up or do it for him,” Darcy ordered. “And I guess you have to mask up, too. I’m guessing you have to come with us as long as the manacles are on.”

“Where are we going?” Angrboða asked with concern. “Are we not returning to Jötunheimr?” 

“I have a prior obligation,” Darcy said stiffly. “We’re going to Earth. Midgarðr.”

“I… see,” Angrboða said unsteadily. “Might I ask why?”

“No,” Darcy snapped. “Get busy.”

It didn’t take Angrboða long to create a masque for themselves, and they allowed Loki enough magick to restore his own. Loki took the time to transform his and Angrboða’s clothing to more appropriate attire, much to the Jötun sorcerer’s consternation.

“I feel… confined,” Angbroða complained, tugging at the suit jacket Loki had provided. As Angrboða did not have a clear preferred gender, Loki had gone with a neutral gray pantsuit, complete with a waistcoat. For himself Loki had chosen a knit wool sweater with leather elbow patches and jeans.

Darcy finally relinquished Freyr to a Greenchild wetnurse, to whom Loki gave strict instructions. For time’s sake they would use the Dreaming to return to Midgarðr, escorted by Draumr for safety. If they could glean any information as to Lorelei’s whereabouts, Draumr would apprehend the witch for containment.

Draumr took them directly into the headquarters for the LAPD, where Darcy led them to the reception desk. Angrboða was antsy and nervous, glancing this way and that at any human who ventured too close. Draumr, his cloak in the form of a black trench coat, remained perfectly still. No one noticed his strange appearance. No one ever did.

Darcy gasped suddenly. “Oh, Dad, I meant to warn you. The detective is being helped by--”

“ _ Loki _ ?”

He turned at the familiar voice, his eyes widening. It couldn’t  _ possibly _ be… “Lucifer?” he asked breathlessly. The fallen angel stood a few paces away, his own dark eyes round with surprise. He looked… very well, actually. Almost exactly as Loki remembered.

“What… what are you doing here?” Lucifer demanded.

“You two know each other?” Darcy asked, and Loki groaned, reaching up to rub his eyes.

“I’d say we did a lot more than  _ know _ each other,” Lucifer replied with a lecherous grin. “How do  _ you _ know him, Mrs. Gersemi?”

“He’s my  _ husband, _ ” Darcy snapped. She turned to look up at Loki. “Seriously?  _ Seriously _ ?  _ Him _ ? Do you have any idea what he did to my dad?”

“I heard,” Loki muttered, wishing he was anywhere else but here. He snuck a look at the Lord of Dreams himself, who was staring at Lucifer with an unreadable expression.

**“Fallen One,”** Draumr said, interrupting the awkward reunion.

Lucifer cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. “Lord of Dreams,” he replied formally.

**“I understand you rendered aid to my daughter in her time of need,”** Draumr said gravely.

“That is true,” Lucifer confirmed.

**“Then for this reason I will consider matters cleared between us,”** Draumr replied.  **“Let there be no more animosity.”**

“Happily,” Lucifer said with relief. He looked around at the four of them. “Well. The Detective is not going to be happy about  _ this _ .”

“Happy about what?” a petite, blonde woman asked from behind Lucifer. To his credit, he didn’t jump, despite clearly not knowing she was there.

“Ah. Speak of the me,” Lucifer said wryly. 

“Mrs. Gersemi, thank you for coming back,” the woman said with a faint smile. “How are you feeling today?”

“Significantly better,” Darcy replied politely. “Detective Decker, this is my husband, Loki Odinson; my father, Morpheus; and our acquaintance, Angrboða.”

“Hello,” Detective Decker greeted, not batting an eye at the strange names. “If you don’t mind, Mrs Gersemi, I have some questions I’d like to ask you. Privately.”

**“I will accompany her,”** Draumr said firmly.

Detective Decker blinked, then hesitated. “I would be best if we were alone.”

**“Does Darcy not have the right to representation?”** Draumr challenged.

“Are you a lawyer?” Decker asked without skipping a beat.

**“When I need to be,”** Draumr replied.

Decker considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” She escorted Darcy and Draumr away, leaving Loki and Lucifer alone with Loki’s silent chaperone.

“So,” Lucifer said after a long moment. “You got married.”

“Yes,” Loki said tersely.

“Are you… happy?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes,” Loki said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Yes, I am,” he said again.

“Congratulations, I suppose,” Lucifer said, slipping his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you,” Loki said stiffly. He glanced at Angrboða, who had a schooled expression on their face. “I don’t suppose you could give me whatever information you had on the murders?”

“I suppose I could,” Lucifer said. “Come with me. I’ll show you the file.”

“What are you doing here?” Loki asked as they began moving through the building.

Lucifer gave him a sidelong look from his midnight-dark eyes. “Punishing wrongdoers. As I’ve always done.”

“But if you’re  _ here _ , who is…” Loki trailed off as a uniformed officer pushed between them. 

“No one,” Lucifer replied. “And it’s not my problem anymore. I abdicated. Resigned. Sent in my notice.”

“Your father allowed you to?”

Lucifer’s expression darkened. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m done being his puppet.”

Loki felt that deeply. He nodded. “And who did He send to try to force you back?”

“Amenadiel, of all people,” Lucifer said with a scoff. “As if I’d listen to anything  _ he _ says, the pompous blow-hard.”

“Hmm,” Loki said non-committedly. “And you are… working for the police?”

“Yes, because that’s where the people who need punishing are,” Lucifer replied, grinning widely. He led them to a conference room, the table covered with photos and print-outs. Loki picked up one of the photos and studied it.

“‘Warn Darcy’,” he read. “Poor Owen. He was a good friend to her.”

“You knew them, too?”

“We met a few times,” Loki said with a shrug. Lucifer handed him another photo. Loki took it and grimaced. “This is Lorelei’s work,” he muttered, putting the gruesome image down. “Only she would pervert the Greensong in such a way.”

“Your, ah,  _ wife _ , mentioned that this Lorelei wasn’t happy with you.”

“No. She isn’t.” Loki circled the table, unsure what he was looking for. “She has hitched her chariot to my brother’s horse, and they see me as a threat to their sovereignty.”

Lucifer frowned. “Thor? I didn’t think Thor wanted to  _ kill _ you.”

“Only sometimes,” Loki replied. “No. I meant Baldr. Thor has been banished for war crimes, Odin is in the Odinsleep, and Baldr sits on the throne of Asgard.”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “I see a great deal has changed in the last hundred years.”

Loki blinked a few times. “Has it been that long already?”

“Trust me, I never lose track of time,” Lucifer said, joining Loki at the table. He reached down and brushed the back of Loki’s hand with his fingertips. “I remember our time together… fondly.”

Loki deliberately moved a half-step away. “So do I,” he admitted. “But neither of us expected to ever see each other again.”

“I’m happy we were wrong,” Lucifer replied. “I own a nightclub. After all of this is over, we should have a drink.”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Loki told him.

“It’s just a drink,” Lucifer protested.

“It’s never  _ just _ a drink with you,” Loki said with amusement. “Darcy might object.”

“She’s welcome to join us,” Lucifer cajoled.

Loki laughed. “Darcy does not share.”

“Hmm,” Lucifer said. “Shame.”

xXx

Decker took Darcy and Dream back to the interrogation room. Darcy felt much less impatient this time. After all, she had Loki back. That had been the driving force behind all her actions for the past two months. No he was back, and she could focus on catching Lorelei. Then plan a heist on Odin’s weapon vault. She took a deep breath. One thing at a time.

“I wanted to go over a few things,” Decker said as she sat down. Dream pulled out Darcy’s chair before sitting himself.

“Like what?” Darcy asked.

“I feel as if you are not being completely forthright with me,” Decker replied, opening her file. 

“It’s likely.”

Decker folded her hands. “If I’m going to catch the person or persons who killed your friends, I need to know everything you know.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Darcy challenged.

“I can handle anything you throw at me,” Decker replied confidently.

“Okay then,” Darcy said, and leaned her elbows against the table. “The woman who killed Owen and Brent is named Lorelei. She’s a witch from the planet Vanaheimr, and she was thrown out of the Greencoven for misuse of magick. My birth mother was responsible for banishing Lorelei and her sister Amora. Now Lorelei is hooking up with my husband’s brother, Baldr, who is currently in the middle of an attempt to usurp the throne of the planet Asgard. Also my husband and Lorelei used to date, and their break-up was spectacularly nasty, I’m told. So it appears that Lorelei is trying to take me out and killed Owen and Brent while trying to track me down.”

Decker remained perfectly still for several seconds after Darcy finished speaking. She sighed deeply. “Mrs. Gersemi,” she began.

“ _ Darcy _ ,” Darcy insisted.

“Darcy,” Decker corrected herself. “I understand that this situation might be difficult for you, but if you aren’t going to tell me the truth--”

**“It is the truth,”** Dream interrupted, his resonant voice quiet but still filled the room.  **“All of it. Accept it or don’t. But don’t interfere with our mission.”**

Decker gasped, eyes widening as she leaned back in her chair. Darcy knew that Dream had allowed her to see him as he truly was for the first time.

“You-- She-- But it  _ can’t _ \--” she stammered. “That’s impossible!”

**“Very little is truly impossible,”** Dream said gravely.  **“I’m afraid we do not have time for your doubt. If you wish to assist us in apprehending the culprit, you will need to adapt, and quickly.”**

“You want her help?” Darcy asked her father curiously. Dream turned his silver, starry gaze onto his daughter.

**“A human agent may be of some use,”** he replied.  **“I believe Lorelei may still be on earth.”**

“Okay, then. Where do we start?”

  
Dream turned back to Decker.  **“With the evidence, of course.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, guess whaaaaaat?! This Is Gospel is ready to print and available to order!!!. There is a link in my profile OR email me at sinead@sineadsmith3.com and I can send you a direct link. Unlike before, you will ordering directly from the publisher's website. This saves me money and gets the book to you faster! I am very excited to be able to offer hard copies of my fics. I would like the thank Nyxphos for designing the beautiful cover!


	4. A Side Quest Appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sweets! Welcome back to the crazy. I apologize for missing my usual Thanksgiving update, but I was out of town and writing was out of the question. I am finally fully recovered from my lung infection, and the wife and I have stayed healthy so far this Holiday season.
> 
> Big news! The printed copy of This Is Gospel is available to order! There is a link in my profile or you can email me at sinead@sineadsmith3.com for a direct link. A word of warning for any readers outside the US: international shipping direct from the publisher's website is prohibitive. Please email me and we will work something out! I want to make sure everyone who wants a copy can get one, no matter where you live.

The evidence was, unfortunately, underwhelming.

After giving Detective Decker a moment or two to recover from her shock, they joined Loki and Lucifer in the conference room. Darcy did not fail to notice Loki’s calculated distance from Lucifer, or the subtle glances the celestial occasionally sent Loki’s way.

“Jesus,” Darcy muttered, picking up a crime scene photo. “This is… horrible.”

Loki put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Darcy admitted. “I’m definitely  _ not _ alright.”

Detective Decker edged over to Lucifer. “Did you know?” she hissed at him in an undertone. “About… all of this?”

“I did,” he replied. “Mrs. Gersemi told me everything.”

“She told  _ you _ ?” Decker demanded. She turned to glare at Darcy. “Why would she tell  _ you _ ?”

“Because I knew he would believe me,” Darcy retorted.

**“What evidence was recovered from the scene?”** Dream interrupted, keeping them focused.

“Not a lot,” Decker admitted, picking up a thin folder and handing it over. “There was no murder weapon, and the hair that we found had corrupted DNA.”

“Not corrupted,” Darcy corrected. “Alien. Alien DNA.”

“Right,” Decker said uncomfortably. “Alien DNA.”

“The murder weapon was magick,” Loki said thougtfully, studying a collection of photos of the corpses. “I know this spell. It’s forbidden upon pain of death.”

“Forbidden by who?” Decker asked. She glanced over at Darcy. “By that… coven… you were talking about?”

“The Greencoven, yes,” Loki replied. “But I’m fairly certain Lorelei no longer cares about the rules of the Coven.” He tapped his lips with one finger. “We know Owen and Brent were targeted to get to Darcy. But is Darcy the true target?”

“You think she might be coming after you?” Lucifer asked.

“It’s possible,” Loki admitted. “She has reason to hate both of us.”

“Very true," Lucifer mused. “It’s also possible she’s acting under your brother’s orders. Perhaps to remove you from the line of succession?”

“Myself and my heirs,” Loki mused. “She  _ did _ attack Sleipnir.”

Darcy pressed her hand to her stomach, a jolt of hot fear shooting through her chest. “But I thought that Sleipnir couldn’t inherit your titles,” she pointed out.

“Baldr may be wanting to eliminate any risk at all,” Loki said, and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “But if Lorelei somehow discovered you were pregnant, then Helena is at risk as well.”

“I think I’m going to need a little bit more information on the situation,” Decker announced. “Break this down for me. Why is this Baldr person trying to kill Loki and his… heirs? Also, Darcy, you’re pregnant?”

“I am,” Darcy confirmed. 

Lucifer’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Loki. I see you changed your opinion on having children.”

Loki scowled and drew Darcy protectively against his side. “It appears I have.”

“Wait, you  _ know _ Loki?” Decker demanded of Lucifer. “How?”

“We spent some time together,” Lucifer said vaguely, waving a hand. “It was a lifetime ago.”

Decker rolled her eyes. She sat down in one of the rolling chairs and pulled a blank notepad over. “Alright. Let’s get through this. Baldr. What’s his deal?”

“Baldr is my younger brother,” Loki explained. “The third son of Odin, King of Asgard. My older brother, Thor, has been banished for war crimes. I left Asgard voluntarily under… less than ideal circumstances. Our father has since taken ill and is unable to rule, leaving Baldr on the throne.”

Decker wrote quickly, nodding as Loki spoke. “Okay. I’ve got that so far. Go on.”

“Baldr clearly wishes to consolidate his power before Odin recovers,  _ if _ he ever does,” Loki continued. “In order to do so, however, he would need to remove me and my succession, as my heirs would be higher in line than he would.”

“Understandable,” Decker said. “How many children do you have?”

“I have a son, and our unborn daughter,” Loki explained. “However, my son is unable to inherit without a great deal of political workings.”

“Why?” Decker demanded, looking up. “How does succession work on Asgard?”

“Sleipnir is a bastard,” Loki said softly. “I was not married to my partner when he was born. Darcy’s daughter will be my true heir, and if Thor has no children, will be next in line for the throne.”

Decker nodded. “Okay. So it looks like we have established a motive. Lorelei needs to eliminate Darcy and your unborn child for Baldr to consolidate his hold on Asgard’s throne.” She frowned. “Loki, Darcy said that Lorelei is your ex. You know her best. What’s her next move?”

Before Loki could answer, Dream held up his hand.  **“I apologize, but I must leave you now. My servants have located Lorelei’s nightmare, and I must dispose of it before it causes any more damage.”**

“Be careful,” Darcy blurted, leaving Loki’s side to hug her father.

**“You as well,”** Dream replied. He turned his starry gaze to Loki.  **“Do not allow harm to befall her.”**

“I will protect her with my life,” Loki promised solemnly.

“As will I.”

Everyone turned at the new voice to see Angrboða standing, forgotten, in the corner. “Lady Darcy has promised to return the Casket to Jötunheimr,” they explained. “I will not allow her to be harmed before she can fulfill that oath.”

Dream inclined his head, then pulled his cloak tight around himself and vanished. Decker started, her eyes widening. “Where did he--” she cut herself off and shook her head. “I don’t need to know,” she muttered. “Not relevant to the case.”

Lucifer looked distinctly relieved that Dream was gone. “We should draw Lorelei out,” he suggested. “Set a trap where we have the upper hand.”

Loki chewed on his bottom lip. “Not in the city. The fallout would cause too much damage.”

Darcy snapped her fingers. “San Clemente Island,” she announced. “No permanent residences and surrounded by water.”

“Why does it need to be surrounded by water?” Decker demanded. “Why couldn’t we go out into the desert?”

“Water diffuses magick,” Loki explained. “Also Lorelei is an expert at earth magicks. We will need to limit how much earth she has access to.”

“Aliens and magick,” Decker muttered. “This is ridiculous.”

“Welcome to the real world,” Darcy replied.

xXx

In the end, Lorelei came to them.

They were in the middle of preparations, using the conference room as their war room. Daniel wasn’t available to help them, unfortunately, as the Nightmare proved harder to contain than Dream had anticipated. So instead Loki sent for Rook and Lucifer volunteered the services of Mazikeen, his demon bodyguard. The two black-haired women took one look at each other and were instant friends.

“Loptr!” Rook exclaimed when she arrived at the station. “We spend months looking for you and now what is this? You simply reappear?” She bounded over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, biceps bulging as she lifted him off his feet in a rough embrace. Mazikeen’s dark eyes shone with a sudden hunger.

“It is a long story,” Loki replied. “And I’ve told you not to call me that.”

Rook laughed at him and put him down, her attention suddenly on Mazikeen. “Who is  _ this  _ vision of beauty?” she demanded, striding over to offer her hand. “You are as exquisite and deadly as an elf-forged blade, my lady.”

Mazikeen smirked and allowed Rook to kiss the back of her hand. “Charmed,” she replied. “I’m Mazikeen. You can call me Maze.”

“Beautiful, fierce,  _ and _ mysterious,” Rook purred. “You have stolen my heart away, as a Valkyrie plucks the souls of the fallen from the battlefield.”

“That’s enough of that,” Lucifer interrupted, looking very uncomfortable. “You’re not here to flirt.”

“That’s rich coming from  _ you _ ,” Decker muttered, and then faked an innocent look when Lucifer glared at her. 

“So we are finally going after Lorelei,” Rook said, rubbing her hands together with anticipation. “I have looked forward to this for a long time.”

“It will not be easy,” Loki warned her. He was happy to have his old friend at his side for this. He was confident in Darcy’s and Lucifer’s abilities to assist, but he had never marched to war without her with him.

Rook did not seem concerned by his warning. “She will be no match for the both of us, brother.”

Darcy edged closer to Loki’s side, leaning around him to look at Rook. “There’s something else you should know,” she said in a quiet, hesitant voice.

Rook blinked her black-and-gold eyes and frowned. “What is it, Sister Gersemi?”

“Lorelei may have had something to do with Freyja’s death,” Darcy said. 

Rook shook her head. “That’s not possible. Everyone knows Freyja poisoned herself.”

“But no one knows  _ why _ ,” Darcy pointed out. “And my father thinks Lorelei or Amora may have been behind it.”

Rook frowned harder. “Lord Draumr believes this? Then there must be truth to it.  _ Faen _ .” She rubbed her forehead. “I’ll kill Lorelei myself if that is true.”

“Get in line,” Darcy retorted.

“Who is Freyja?” Decker demanded. “How does she fit in to all of this?”

“Freyja was my mother,” Darcy explained. “She was a very well-respected and well-liked member of the Coven, and she was the one who ordered Lorelei and her sister banished.”

“So she has a lot of motive to go after the two of you,” Decker said.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Wonderful.”

Angrboða slipped into the conference room, holding something cupped in their hands. “My prince,” they called softly, circling the table towards Loki. “My prince, there is news from Jötunheimr.”

Loki straightened with a frown, his heart sinking. He knew that Angrboða was under geis to follow any order from Laufey, and until the thorn manacles were removed, he was at their mercy. “What is it?”

Angrboða opened their hands to reveal a small creature no larger than a songbird. It closely resembled a bat, with leathery wings and a coat of thick, white fur; but it had no eyes, just shallow hollows where eyes should be.

“What is  _ that? _ ” Detective Decker demanded, recoiling in horror.

“This is a  _ nóttfjúka _ ,” Angrboða explained, stroking the tiny creature’s head with one finger. “The royal line of Jötenheim uses them to send messages between the worlds.”

“Like the ravens of Asgard,” Rook said with a nod.

“Very like,” Angrboða agreed. “My prince, may I speak with you in private?”

Loki glanced down at Darcy, whose mouth tightened, but she nodded her permission. He offered her a wan smile and beckoned Angrboða into a corner, casting a privacy spell around them with the meager magick his warden had allowed.

  
“What is it?” he demanded.

“Laufey King has learned of our departure and is furious,” Angrboða whispered. “He demands our immediate return. Also Baldr, King Regent of Asgard, has sent a herald to Jötunheimr. He plans to meet with Laufey King to renegotiate the peace accords.”

“What?” Loki bit out. “The accords have stood for over a thousand years! Long before Baldr was born. What does he think he can do with them?”

Angrboða shrugged, still cradling the  _ nóttfjúka _ in their hands. “Laufey King wishes all his sons to be present.”

“That’s not possible,” Loki said firmly. “If Baldr sees me at Laufey’s side he will recognize me, even in Jötun form. Then all of Asgard will know the truth of my birth.”

Angrboða stared at him with wide eyes. “I… I do not see the danger in that.”

“If Baldr learns that I am the son of Laufey King, then he will stop at nothing to kill me,” Loki replied imatiently. “If he becomes the king of Asgard, then there will be no place in the universe I will be safe. And if it were only myself, I would accept that gladly, but I have my wife and children to consider.”

Angrboða glanced at Darcy. “Laufey King will not recognize your union with the daughter of Lord Draumr. He will not recognize her child as your heir.”

Loki was about to reply hotly that he had no intention of asking Laufey’s blessing on his marriage, nor condemning his unborn daughter to the icy hell that was Jötunheimr. But he stopped himself because his intent was to gain Laufey’s trust enough for him to order the removal of the manacles.

“I am young,” he said instead. “I have already born a child of my own body. I may yet bear another.”

“You have born a child already?” Angrboða demanded sharply. “Of your own blood and body?”

“Yes, my firstborn,” Loki said, caught off guard by their intensity.

“Then you have already preserved the line of Laufey King,” Angrboða said excitedly. “For his heir and his heir’s heir.”

Loki stepped forward, thrusting his forefinger into Angrboða’s face. “You will not come near my son,” he snarled. “You nor any other Jötun. He will be left in peace and safety, and if you tell Laufey King that he exists, I will kill you where you stand, though it kills me as well.”

Angrboða leaned back away from his wrath. “As you wish, my prince,” they said softly. “I will say nothing of your firstborn. But there  _ will _ come a time when you will have to give the royal line a son.”

“We will deal with that later,” Loki said, waving his hand dismissively. “What do we need to do now?”

“We must return to Jötunheimr,” Angrboða insisted. “We must tell Laufey King that Lady Darcy Gersemi intends to restore the Casket to us.”

“Very well. But Baldr cannot know that I am the son of Laufey,” Loki said firmly.

“I will tell Laufey King, but I can make no promises,” Angrboða replied.

Loki sighed. He did not want to have to tell Darcy he had to leave, not after reuniting with her so soon. And Lorelei was still somewhere on Midgarðr, waiting for a time to strike next. He released the privacy spell and returned to the table, pulling Darcy aside.

“I have to leave,” he told her gently. “Laufey is demanding our return.”

Darcy opened her mouth, probably to protest, then snapped it closed. She worked her jaw back and forth for a moment, chewing on her words. “I’m going with you,” she finally decided.

“Absolutely not,” Loki blurted. 

“Absolutely  _ yes _ ,” Darcy insisted. “I just got you back. I’m not losing you again. Besides, we need to talk to Laufey about exchanging you for the Casket of Ancient Winters.”

“That can wait.”

“No, it  _ can’t _ ,” Darcy snapped. “Maybe you’ve been enjoying your winter wonderland vacation, but I’ve been without my husband for  _ three months _ and I’m  _ pregnant _ . I’m not letting you out of my sight again until this baby is born.”

Loki put his hands on her shoulders and felt her muscles tighten at the obvious placating gesture. “Jötunheimr is a dangerous realm,” he told her. “The War Chiefs are waiting for me to show any weakness. If they learn of your existence, they will stop at nothing to exploit you against me.”

Darcy slapped his hand away. “I can take care of myself, you know,” she retorted. “I’m a Scion of the goddamn Endless,  _ and _ a Greenchild. I think I can handle whatever these War Chiefs throw my way.”

Loki considered that. “That may be true, but you can’t obliterate every obstacle in your way,” he reminded her.

“Why not?” Darcy demanded, then relented. “I know, I know. But I still need to speak to Laufey, War Chiefs or not. He’s never going to let you go otherwise, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Loki admitted.

“Then let’s do this,” Darcy said firmly. 

Loki sighed heavily. “Very well. But you’ll need a coat. A very thick one.”


	5. A Day of Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heya sweets! Happy third day of Hanukkah! You know what makes a good present for yourself? Your favorite fanfiction in book form! If anyone is still on the fence about getting your very own copy of This Is Gospel, this is your sign to get it! And if anyone wants a copy of This Is Gospel, it has been reformatted to make it less bulky. You can find the links in my profile or email me at sinead@sineadsmith.com to order!

Jötunheimr was  _ cold  _ and Darcy hated it. Despite the heavy coat Loki had found for her, despite the blankets and wrappings and gloves he had bundled her in, the pervasive cold still sunk deep to her bones. They trudged through the path Angrboða carved for them through the hip-deep snow. Loki followed behind Darcy, to catch her if she fell, and behind Loki came Hnoss, who had insisted on accompanying them, as she was going to be helping them with their heist. The cold didn’t seem to bother her as much.

Loki had warned Darcy that he would likely revert back to the Jötun form when they arrived on the ice planet, and she thought she’d been ready. She really wasn’t. It had shocked her to her core to see his skin turn sapphire blue and his pale green eyes become blood red. His teeth and nails grew sharp and pointed, and scar-like ridges appeared on his face and arms.

She had stood for a moment, eyes wide, despite having seen him like this mere hours before. But to see the transformation had thrown her completely off-guard. Loki saw her consternation and turned away in shame, his cheeks turning purple.

Darcy had grabbed his hand and pulled him back around. “Hey,” she said softly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Really.”

“I look like a monster,” he muttered, eyes downcast.

Darcy touched his cheek with her gloved hand. “I have seen monsters, my love,” she told him softly. “And you’re not one.”

He scowled and pulled away from her touch. “Your judgement is biased, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe,” Darcy agreed. “But do you trust me? Do you trust my judgement?”

He hesitated for a long time. “Yes,” he finally admitted.

“Babe, I will love you no matter what color or shape you are,” she promised him. “You’re my person. Period.”

He managed a weak smile at that. “It isn’t easy to love a shapeshifter,” he warned her.

“You make it easy,” she replied. “Now come on.I have a king to yell at and we have a Casket to steal.”

Loki instructed Darcy to cover her face when they reached the city. Under all her wrappings she could pass for a juvenile Jötun as long as no one saw her skin. Hnoss, too, covered her face, though her coat was a lot thinner than Darcy’s.

They were not accosted until they reached the palace.

A towering Jötun stopped them in the servants’ corridor they had used to sneak in. “Angrboða! Grindalokki! Where have you been? Laufey King is furious! He has had the city and the mountains torn apart looking for you.”

“Our departure was not by our will,” Loki replied, clearly covering for Angrboða. Despite the diminutive Jötun being his primary captor, Looki seemed to harbor no ill will toward them. “And we have returned as soon as we could.”

The Jötun’s gaze fell on Darcy and Hnoss, and Darcy took a half-step behind Loki at the fierceness of his countenance. It was one thing to see Loki and Angrboða in Jötun form, but when the Jötun was nearly thirteen feet tall, it was a completely different story.

“Who are these?” the Jötun demanded. “Why are they here?”

Loki gestured behind them. “This is my bond-mate, Lady Darcy Gersemi, and her sister, Lady Hnoss Oðrdottír.” He looked down at Darcy and sighed. “Darcy, this is my younger brother, Býleister.”

“You didn’t mention you had brothers,” Darcy whispered, her voice muffled by the scarf over her face.

“It is… complicated,” Loki replied tightly.

“You brought outsiders here?” Býleister seemed more curious than angry. “This will not be a safe place for them.”

“My bond-mate and her sister are both witches from the Greencoven on Vanaheimr,” Loki explained. “They are more than capable of defending themselves.”

Darcy bit her tongue over the half-lie. She wasn’t  _ technically _ a witch. Not yet, anyway. She had not passed the final trials and she had not received the traditional wards and markings that denoted a graduate of the Greencoven. Part of her doubted if she ever would. 

“Witches?” Býleister echoed. “You have better taste in bond-mates than I expected. But don’t expect our father to approve of your mating with a warm-blood.”

“I do not expect it,” Loki said dryly.

Býleister gestured for them to follow him. “Come with me. Father will wish to see you immediately. We are expecting the delegation from Asgard any minute.”

Loki rushed forward a few steps and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Býleister, I cannot appear before the Asgardians. Not in this form.”

The larger Jötun frowned down at his much shorter older brother. “Why is that? What prevents you?”

“I was raised among them as a prince,” Loki explained. “If they see me thus, and realize my true nature, they will want me killed; executed for treason and espionage.”

Býleister bared his sharp, white teeth. “They will try. But the full might of Jötunheimr will defend you.”

“And they will fail,” Loki said urgently. “There is no power that can stand against the might of Asgard.”

Býleister considered that for a moment. “We will let the King decide. If he believes the risk is worth it, then so be it.”

Loki sighed. “Fine. Lead the way, brother.”

Darcy had to trot quickly to keep up with Býleister’s long gait. Even Angrboða had to hurry to keep up.Loki took Darcy’s hand and gripped it tight. He looked… not nervous, not anxious… but something. Maybe expectant? Like he was prepared for something,  _ anything _ , to happen.

The throne room looked like something out of Tolkein: a dwarven fortress on a massive scale. The floor, ceiling, and walls were perfectly-smooth stone, bluish-gray with veins of white and black. Massive pillars rose seventy-five feet or more to the ceiling, carved in intricate and vaguely-nordic designs. Darcy’s gaze finally made it to the throne: a single piece of cloudy blue-white crystal shot through with gold and micah. Seated on it was the Jötun King.

Darcy immediately saw the resemblance between Laufey and Loki. They had the same high cheekbones and noble forehead, the jawline you could cut your hand on and the slightly concave slope of the nose. The ridge-like markings on their face and arms were identical, unlike Býleister’s, whose were clearly different.

Laufey was surrounded by thirteen other Jötnar; fierce behemoths of giants wearing fur and leather armor. Each one had an iron sword hanging from their belts; weapons so rare on Jötunheimr that each one represented a tribe’s entire fortune.

Laufey rose to his feet when they entered, his expression thunderous. Darcy gripped Loki’s hand tighter as they approached. Loki’s expression was stony, but he showed no fear. Darcy was glad her face was still covered. She didn’t think she could school her features like he had.

“Grindalokki,” Laufey growled. His voice was not loud, but so deep and sonorous that Darcy felt it rumble in her chest. “I brought you home, raised you to your rightful place, and this is how you repay me? And you, Angrboða, this is how you fulfill your oaths?”

“This was not Angrboða’s doing,” Loki replied in a clear, confident tone. “They are not to blame for our disappearance.”

“Then who is?” Laufey demanded. “Name them and they shall pay the price.”

“Lord Draumr, Master of the Dreaming,” Loki said.

Laufey’s face showed surprise, but he quickly hid the expression behind a terrible scowl. “Leave us,” he snarled at the other Jötnar. “I would speak to my sons in private.”

“The Asgardians will arrive soon,” one of the others protested. “We have no time for your spawn’s treacheries.”

“I will decide what is treason and what is not, Ygrâl,” Laufey sneered. “Leave us  _ now _ .”

The Jötnar left the throne room with mutinous grumbles, glaring at Loki and Býleister with angry, red eyes. But no one dared to outright defy the king. Not yet, anyway.

Lafey sat on the throne again once they were alone. “What is the meaning of this, Grindalokki? Why would Lord Draumr steal you away?”

Loki pulled Darcy in front of him and snatched away the scarf over her face, revealing her pink skin and the fresh scar on her face. “This is Lady Darcy Gersemi,” he announced. “Daughter of Lord Draumr and Scion of the Endless. She was gravely wounded by a Nightmare created by an old enemy of her mother.”

Laufey sighed heavily. “And why did this demand your presence?”

“Because she is my wife and bond-mate, and the mother of my unborn child,” Loki declared. 

Laufey was silent for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then he rubbed his hand down his face. “You are bond-mated to a warm-blood by magick?” he asked, his voice strained and tired.

“I am,” Loki replied firmly. “I have made oaths of blood and body and magick.”

“The War Chiefs will not accept this,” Laufey warned. “They will kill your bond-mate without hesitation to keep the royal line from contamination.”

“Contamination?” Darcy echoed indignantly. Loki shot her a warning look and she snapped her mouth closed.

“They will never accept you as my heir now,” Laufey said wearily. “All we have done is for naught.”

Darcy cleared her throat and looked up at Loki. He grimaced and nodded, releasing her hand. She took a step forward, steeling herself for what came next. “I may have a solution for that,” she said in a squeaky voice.

Laufey turned the full force of his red glare on her. “And what would that be, little warm-blood?”

Darcy’s mouth tightened at the insulting tone, but she drew herself up proudly. “The Casket of Ancient Winters was taken from your people during the war with Asgard. What would you give to have it returned to you?”

Laufey rose to his feet, towering over Darcy. She refused to show how nervous she was, refused to allow him to see how everything hung on this moment. “ _ You _ could return the Casket to us?” he hissed. “ _ You _ have that power over Asgard?”

“What would it be worth to you?” Darcy demanded. 

Laufey narrowed his eyes. “What do you wish for it?”

“Would it be worth your firstborn son?” Darcy asked.

Laufey’s gaze switched to Loki and then back to Darcy. “What trickery is this, witch?”

“No trickery,” Darcy replied. “I will give you the Casket of Ancient Winters if you will free Loki from any obligation he has to you and allow him to leave Jötunheimr forever.”

“What good is the Casket to me if my line dies with me?” Laufey asked. “What good is power if I have no heir?”

“You  _ have _ an heir,” Darcy said, gesturing to Býleister.

“You do not know our laws,” Laufey snarled at her. “You know nothing of our people.”

“I know that if you held the Casket, you would have the power to change the laws,” Darcy retorted. “Are you not the king of Jötunheimr? Do you not make and uphold the laws of your realm?”

“It is not this simple,” Laufey rumbled, taking the throne once again. “I would need approval of the War Chiefs. We respect the leaders of our people here, little warm-blood. I am no tyrant, unlike Odin of Asgard.”

Darcy didn’t know a thing about Odin other than he had royally fucked Loki up by being a shitty adoptive father, so she didn’t argue. “I know the worth of the Casket, your Majesty. I will not haggle for it like a shopkeeper. I will have my husband’s freedom and nothing less.”

She was quite pleased by her speech and the fact that her voice didn’t quiver once. She raised her chin and met Laufey’s gaze squarely. She was not leaving this throne room without a promise that Loki was going home with her.

“What guarantee do I have that you can even acquire the casket?” Laufey asked suspiciously. “You are not Asgardian. Odin will never relinquish the Casket to you.”

“I am the daughter of Dream of the Endless and granddaughter of Nerþuz the Greenmother,” Darcy replied, tossing her head proudly. “I will go to Asgard and take it, whether Odin wills it or not.”

“Your confidence does not reassure me, witch,” Laufey replied. “You have no collateral in this bargain.”

Darcy glanced behind her at Loki. “I have my husband,” she said. “Loki will remain here until I bring the Casket to you. If I fail, then he is yours forever.”

Loki’s eyes widened, lips parting as if to protest. But he seemed to realize the gravity of their situation, and he instead nodded in acquiescence.

Laufey considered this for several seconds. “Grindalokki. Will you agree to these terms? If your bond-mate cannot produce the Casket, will you remain here willingly? Forsake your former life and bonds and serve as my heir?”

“I will,” Loki replied softly, his gaze on Darcy’s face. “But she will not fail.”

“We shall see,” Laufey murmured. “Very well, Lady Darcy Gersemi, daughter of Draumr. I accept your terms. Bring me the Casket before the next new moon and Grindalokki will be yours.”

Darcy inclined her head. She wondered silently when the next new moon on Jötunheimr was, but thought it better not to ask right at this moment. She stepped back and moved to Hnoss’ side. Her sister grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“We will do this,” Hnoss whispered to her.

“I sure hope so,” Darcy replied.

The doors to the throne room scraped open, revealing the War Chief who had spoken out against Laufey. “Laufey King,” Ygrâl proclaimed. “The Asgardian delegation has arrived.”

“They may enter,” Laufey said, leaning back on his throne. “My sons. Stand at my side.”

Darcy saw Loki open his mouth again, but Býleister grabbed his arm and yanked him along onto the dais. Hnoss pulled Darcy behind a pillar where they would gather little notice. Darcy’s stomach snak when she saw who led the delegation.

Baldr strode into the throne room, followed by his entourage. He wore a circlet of gold atop his blonde hair, decorated with stag’s antlers. His red cloak ripple behind him, the low light gleaming off his silver and gold armor.

“Laufey King!” Baldr exclaimed, his voice ringing in the stone-walled room. “I am Baldr, son of Odin, King Regent of Asgard.”

“I know who you are,” Laufey growled. “And I know why you are here.”

“Then let there be no mistaking my purpose,” Baldr said. “The Peace accords between our peoples have stood for a thousand years.”

“And for a thousand years we have had peace,” Laufey retorted. “Why should we cast off what has benefitted us both?”

“A thousand years is long enough,” Baldr replied. “A lifetime for some. Many things change in that time, as have both of our realms. It is time to negotiate a new peace between our peoples.”

“I know your kind, Asgardian,” Laufey rumbled. “I know your definition of ‘peace.’ I have no interest in allowing the bloodless conquest of my realm by an upstart princeling.”

“I would consider your words carefully, Laufey King,” Baldr warned. “The might of Asgard has only grown since the war.”

“I do measure my words carefully, princeling,” Laufey said. “And I always speak precisely what I mean. You are the third son, made regent by chance and misfortune. Where is Odin? Does he sleep? When he wakes will he approve of your machinations?”

“While Odin sleeps my word is law,” Baldr declared. “I have the power to rule Asgard as I wish.”

Laufey leaned forward. “I know Odin. He is my enemy, but he is a familiar one. I do not know you, princeling. I will not make a bargain with you. Return when Odin awakes and with his blessing. Then we may speak.”

“You will bargain with me or Asgard will dissolve the accords,” Baldr said. “I will not hesitate to destroy you and your realm.”

“You will pay dearly for your pride, princeling,” Laufey growled. He rose to his feet, easily dwarfing Baldr. “You will pay in blood and lives.”

Baldr visibly hesitated, but quickly regained his bravado. He was about to hotly reply when something caught his attention and he turned to look at the two Jötnar standing beside the throne. His eyes widened in horrified realization.

“ _ Loki _ ?” he demanded breathlessly. “What are you…?” His question trailed off and his expression changed to fury. “Traitor!” he yelled, jabbing his finger at Loki. “Spy! Changeling witch! Now your lies have been exposed! Monster!”

Laufey stepped forward and off the dais. “You will not speak to my son in this way,” he snarled. 

“Your... _ son _ ?” Baldr sputtered. “He is your  _ son _ ?”

“My firstborn and my heir,” Laufey said proudly.

There was a second of silent shock from the Asgardians. Then chaos erupted.


	6. A Three Pipe Problem

Chloe Decker was a firm believer of what she could see, touch, or hear. She had never had patience for fairy tales or make believe. She encouraged these traits in her daughter, Trixie, but they had no place in police work. That is not to say that she didn’t have faith, though. She had a lot of faith. She had faith in her fellow officers, in the fundamental good of humanity, and in the evidence. But religion? Not likely.

So now she believed in aliens. After all, she had been given incontrovertible evidence that they existed.  _ Aliens _ . Aliens that shared the names of mythological gods. That was a left turn she had never imagined her life taking.

“So how’s the case going?” Dan asked, coming to stand beside her at the coffee counter. 

“It’s… not,” Chloe admitted. “I have no murder weapon, no DNA evidence, and my only lead has evaporated.”

“Wonderful,” Dan said sympathetically. “Is it destined for the cold case files?”

“Probably,” Chloe replied, tasting the coffee and making a face. “Eugh. Who made this?”

“I saw Lucifer hanging around her a little while ago,” Dan said darkly. “Where is he, anyway? Isn’t he supposed to be helping you? Not that I’m complaining he’s gone, but if he’s got a job, he needs to do it.”

“He fell asleep in the conference room,” Chloe told him. “We pulled an all-nighter and he got bored.”

“Bored,” Dan scoffed. “If this bores him, maybe he’s not cut out for this sort of work.”

“Dan,” Chloe said firmly. “I know you don’t like him, but Lucifer  _ has _ helped in a lot of my cases since he started. His methods may be… unorthodox… but he’s a valuable resource.”

“We’ll see,” Dan said ominously. He dumped the carafe and pulled the coffee grounds down from the cabinet. Chloe poured out the mug of coffee she had prepared and headed back to the conference room. Lucifer was still asleep, head down on the table. Rook and Mazikeen were huddled together in a corner, talking in whispers. As Chloe watched, Rook idly coiled a strand of Mazikeen’s hair around her finger and laughed at something Mazikeen said.

Chloe ignored the two women and quietly sat in the chair next to Lucifer. She set her elbows down on the table and rubbed her face. She had a suspect, even knew her name, but couldn’t make an arrest. And if she could, Lorelei would never be put on trial. How was she supposed to present evidence in court when the murder weapon was “magic”?

She was going to have to tell the lieutenant that she had come to a dead end and request a new case. The file would sit in her drawer for an appropriate amount of time before she sealed the file box with evidence tape and submitted it to evidence for storage. As far as the LAPD would be concerned, it would never be solved.

Chloe had been a detective for almost five years, and in that time she had never left a case unsolved. Her pride rankled at the thought of this mark on her record. Dan would tell her that it happened to everyone, that every detective, if they worked long enough, came across at least one case they couldn’t break. But Chloe wasn’t just  _ any _ detective. She was the  _ best _ detective. And it wasn’t just her own reputation she had to uphold. It was her father’s, too.

There was absolutely no warning before Darcy Gersemi appeared out of thin air, stumbling and falling to the cheap carpet. Another woman Chloe didn’t recognize appeared a second later, followed by a very tall, very pale man. They all landed in a heap on the floor.

“Son of a fucking  _ bitch! _ ” Darcy yelled loudly. Lucifer startled awake, jerking upright. A photo stuck to his cheek and his dark hair stuck out in all directions. It was a rare moment that Chloe saw him so disheveled, and she found it incongruously charming.

“Oh, god,” said the tall man, levering himself to his knees. “Darcy, are you okay?”

The unfamiliar woman crawled off of Darcy and dry-heaved, still on her hands and knees, but thankfully did not actually vomit. “Never do that again,” she growled at the man.

“You’re welcome for saving your life,” the tall man said sarcastically.

“I had everything under control,” snapped the woman.

“Sure looked like it,” muttered the man. He got to his feet and Chloe realized exactly  _ how _ tall he was. He leaned down and helped Darcy to her feet. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” Darcy snarled, shaking him off. 

“Darcy, we had to get you out of there,” the man told her. “You could have gotten hurt in the crossfire.”

“I know, I  _ know _ ,” Darcy said impatiently. “I just…” she sighed heavily and put both hands against her stomach. “I’m worried about him.”

“Laufey won’t let anything happen to him,” the tall man assured her.

“Maybe.” Darcy didn’t seem convinced.

“Excuse me,” Chloe said, raising her voice slightly. “Would anyone mind telling me what the  _ hell _ is going on?”

“And where is Loki?” Lucifer demanded.

The tall man glared at Lucifer. “Do we  _ really _ have to work with  _ him _ ?” he demanded mutinously.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Darcy replied firmly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Lucifer asked, getting to his feet. The tall man was about an inch taller than Lucifer.

“Daniel,” said the tall man. “Scion of Dreams.”

“Bollocks,” Lucifer said. “You’re Morpheus’ son.”

“Yup,” said the tall man.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Rook said, leaving Mazikeen in the corner. “Where is Loki?”

“We had to leave him behind,” Darcy said unhappily. “Laufey wouldn’t let him leave again.”

Rook’s black eyes flashed, but she didn’t say anything.

“Where did you come from?” Chloe asked. “And how did you get here?”

“Jötunheimr,” Darcy replied, unwinding a woolen scarf from around her neck. “And we came through the Dreaming.”

“Jotunheim?” Chloe echoed, trying to mimic the pronunciation. “What is that?”

“Jötunheimr,” Darcy said again. “It’s a different planet.”

Chloe closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was good at compartmentalizing. She could stick this information in a box and take it out to examine it later, when she had time. And privacy.

“What happened?” she asked instead.

“We agreed to exchange Loki for the Casket of Ancient Winters,” Darcy said, stripping off the leather parka she was wearing. “Then Baldr showed up and everything went to shit. Daniel grabbed us out of there and I have no idea what happened.”

Chloe perked up at the familiar name. “Baldr? Was Lorelei there?”

“No, and that worries me,” Darcy said grimly. “Daniel, did Dad manage to contain the Nightmare?”

Daniel shook his head. “No. We almost had it isolated when it got loose.”

“Awesome,” Darcy said dryly. “So we still have to hunt down the Nightmare, find Lorelei,  _ and _ steal the Casket. Great.”

“We are going to need assistance,” the unfamiliar woman said. “We are running out of time, and we cannot do everything ourselves.”

“Yeah, we do,” Darcy agreed. She sank into a chair and groaned, resting her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, but who are you two?” Chloe asked the tall man.

“I’m Daniel,” he said again. “I’m Darcy’s adopted brother. This is Hnoss, Darcy’s half-sister.”

“Oh,” Chloe said. “How many siblings does Darcy have?”

“Just us and her foster brother,” Daniel said, and turned to Hnoss. “Who do you want to bring on board?”

Hnoss glanced around the room. “We have Rook, the Light-Bringer, and his demon. Can you summon the Augrífa?”

“No!” Darcy said loudly, raising her head. “Not him.”

“Why not?” Hnoss asked. “He is the most effective of your Father’s servants.”

“Yeah, and the last time I unleashed him, I had nightmares for  _ months _ .”

“The last time he was in the Waking, it wasn’t pretty,” Daniel added. “We should use a different denizen.”

“What about the Raven Woman?” Rook asked.

Chloe had no idea what they were talking about and decided not to ask, but just to observe and see what happened.

“She’s helping Dad look for Lorelei’s Nightmare,” Daniel said, shaking his head.

“I… I may have one,” Darcy said hesitantly.

“Have one what?” Daniel asked.

“A Nightmare,” Darcy replied.

Chloe could hear the capital letters and knew there was a difference when they spoke of Nightmares opposed to nightmares. She just didn’t know what it was.

“You made your own Nightmare?” Daniel asked in disbelief.

“Maybe?” Darcy said, uncertain. “I mean, I’ve been working on it for a while.”

“It took me fourteen  _ years _ to make my first Nightmare,” Daniel protested. “And you made one in nine  _ months _ ?”

Darcy shrugged. “I’m a fast study.”

Daniel didn’t look convinced. “It’s hard to keep control of a Nightmare in the Waking. Especially a brand-new one.”

“I’m pretty sure I can keep a hold of this one.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Surely you don’t mean to summon a Nightmare  _ here _ ,” Lucifer said, pointing down at the floor. “Are you insane? What if people  _ see _ it?”

“No one will notice anything different,” Darcy assured him. “It looks perfectly normal on the surface.”

“Very well, we have a Nightmare,” Hnoss said impatiently. “We will still need more assistance if we are to split into three teams.”

“Three?” Darcy demanded.

Hnoss held up three fingers. “One team to steal the Casket, one to find Lorelei, and one to find the Nightmare.”

“Right,” Daniel said. “I’ll take the Nightmare with Dad. Aunt D will probably help if Dad asks very nicely.”

“I’m going after the Casket,” Darcy said firmly. “And if anyone says anything about me being pregnant, I’ll kick you in the shins.”

“I am with Darcy,” Hnoss said quickly. “And we will take her Nightmare.”

“What about me?” Rook demanded. 

“The human and the Light-Bringer will need your help with Lorelei,” Hnoss told her. 

“You believe she is still on Midgarðr?” Rook asked.

“We have no proof she is anywhere else,” Hnoss said. “And if she has left this realm, you know the Ways to follow her.”

“I cannot take on Lorelei by myself,” Rook protested.

“You’re  _ not  _ by yourself,” Maze said darkly, playing with a curved knife.

Rook smiled at the dark-haired woman. “No, I suppose I am not.”

“Stop flirting and  _ focus _ ,” Darcy said. “We need a plan.” 

Chloe cleared her throat and got her feet. “Then let’s get to work.”

xXx

Darcy had been working on creating her own Nightmare since her first disastrous experience with the Corinthian. She knew that one day she would need a Nightmare, but she had no intention of getting the horrifying results she had before. She needed something effective, but not quite that destructive. So she had taken the thing that scared her the most and made it real.

It was still somewhat intimidating to summon it to the Waking world.

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked. “That’s your nightmare?”

Darcy swallowed thickly and stared at the perfect copy of Gertrude standing in the middle of the conference room, as mild and placid as Gertrude had never been in real life.

“Yeah, well, you don’t know her like I do.” Darcy snapped.

“Hello, Mistress Darcy,” the Other Mother said. “How may I serve you?”

“Well, I hope she’s a lot scarier than she looks,” Lucifer said dubiously.

“Trust me, she is,” Darcy said. She looked at the Other Mother and pointed to a chair. “Sit down there for the moment. I’ll let you know when I need you.”

“Yes, Mistress Darcy,” the Other Mother said, and sat.

“That is very creepy,” Detective Decker said, holding up a hand. “Also, Lucifer,  _ how _ do you know so much about all of this?”

“I’ve  _ told _ you, Detective,” Lucifer replied with a smug grin. “I’m the  _ Devil _ .”

Decker shook her head. “No. I can believe aliens, I think. But no. There is no such thing as the devil, or angels.”

“Well, you can’t win every battle,” Lucifer muttered.

“I should go,” Daniel announced. “The sooner we get rid of Lorelei’s Nightmare, the easier it will be to contain Lorelei.”

“Be careful,” Darcy said, hugging him. He stooped to kiss the top of her head.

“I’m always careful,” Daniel assured her, and slipped into the Dreaming.

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Decker exclaimed. “How do you people  _ do _ that?”

“We use the Dreaming to move quickly around from planet to planet,” Darcy explained.

“The Dreaming?” Decker asked.

“The collective dreams of all living beings in the universe,” Darcy said. “I would love to explain at length because it’s actually quite fascinating, but we don’t have time right now. Hnoss, you ready to go?”

“Of course,” Hnoss said. She had also shed her heavy clothing, leaving her in a green knee-length dress and dark emerald leggings. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, held away from her face by a velvet ribbon around her forehead.

“All right, let’s go.”

“Wait,” Decker said. “How are we supposed to find Lorelei?”

Darcy pointed at Rook. “She’ll be able to track her down. Besides, you have a demon. Aren’t they, like, supposed to be infernal bloodhounds or something?”

“Hell hound,” Mazikeen corrected.

“Whatever,” Darcy replied. “Good luck.” She took Hnoss’ hand and slipped into the Dreaming. The Other Mother followed without question.

Once they were safely in the Dreaming, Darcy turned to Hnoss. “You can open your eyes.”

Hnoss carefully cracked one eye. Once she realized they were on stable ground, she opened both fully. “What? How is this different from before?”

“We were moving too quickly for a normal mortal to comprehend,” Darcy explained. “Daniel wanted to get us out of there as fast as possible.”

“Well, it was horrible,” Hnoss said. She looked around. “Where are we?”

“In the Shifting Zones,” Darcy replied. “For some reason I keep ending up here whenever I enter the Dreaming on my own. But it’s okay, I know my way around by now.”

“You can take us to Asgard?”

“Pretty sure.”

“‘Pretty sure’? Oh, that’s wonderful, sister.”

“Shut up.”


	7. The Nightmare and the Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry I haven't posted in forever. My new year's resolution is to write 2,000 words a week on an original novel, and that has eaten up my writing time / energy for the last month or so. 
> 
> I have switched from bookpatch.com to lulu.com for book printing. While this will make printing a LOT cheaper, it will unfortunately mean that you cannot order directly from the website. So if you are interested in ordering hardcover copies of A Profound Silence or A Bittersweet Dream, you will need to let me know so I can place the order. You can email me at sinead@sineadsmith3.com or DM me on insta where I am @sinead_smith_3.
> 
> And finally, this chapter has trigger warnings for implied non-con. There is nothing graphic or explicit, but it is very definitively implied. Please be aware of this as you read.

“Admit it, Sister. You’re lost.”

“I’m not _lost_ ,” Darcy insisted. “I just… don’t know where I am.”

“You _said_ you could get us to Asgard!” Hnoss exclaimed, crossing her arms.

“And I _can_ ,” Darcy retorted. “Eventually,” she added under her breath. “Hang on. I have an idea.” She closed her eyes and reached out into the Dreaming, searching for anyone, or any _thing,_ that could help them. At the furthest reaches of her senses, something flared brightly for a brief second, then faded away.

“Did it work?” Hnoss asked, sounding annoyed.

“Maybe?” Darcy replied, uncertain. “I felt… something. I think someone’s coming to help us.” She cast around the Shifting Zones and saw the Other Mother standing nearby, staring off into the distance with her hand shading her brown eyes. “What are you looking at?”

“Someone is coming, Mistress Darcy,” the Other Mother said mildly.

“What is it?” Darcy demanded, scrambling up onto the rocky ridge next to the Nightmare.

“A Raven,” the Other Mother replied.

“Matthew?” Darcy said, confused. “I thought he was helping Dad and Daniel.”

“Not Matthew,” the Other Mother said, but offered no other explanation.

The raven fluttered down from the gray sky, landing on a twisted, dry root. It shuffled its wings closed across its back and bobbed its head. “Hullo,” it said in a scratchy, male voice. “My name is Jonas.”

“Hello Jonas,” Darcy replied. “Are you here to help us?”

Jonas looked at the three women, turning his head this way and that so he could study them with his beady, black eyes. “Yes,” he answered at length. “The Master said I was to serve you, Mistress Darcy.”

“The Master?” Darcy echoed. “You mean Dream?”

“Yes, Mistress Darcy,” Jonas said, bobbing his head. “He gave me the choice. He said I was to serve you.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” Darcy said, uncertain. She had no idea how her father’s ravens came to be, or what choice Jonas was talking about. “Jonas, I need to get to Asgard as quickly as possible. Can you lead us there?”

“Yes, of course, Mistress Darcy,” Jonas said, snapping his beak. “Follow me.”

Jonas led them through the Shifting Zones at a brisk clip, forcing them to scramble to keep up. Darcy quickly lost her breath, panting as she struggled to keep pace. But when they called to Jonas to slow down, he didn’t respond, perhaps too far away to hear them. The Other Mother slung Darcy’s arm over her shoulders and supported her weight, allowing them to move quicker.

Darcy couldn’t help her skin crawling. Despite the fact that she had _made_ the Other Mother, the resemblance to Gertrude was too uncanny for Darcy to be comfortable with the Nightmare touching her. But the Other Mother was gentle and strong, and Darcy sensed no danger toward herself or her unborn daughter. For the moment, the Nightmare was completely under control.

Finally Jonas circled down and landed on a outcropping above their heads. “Here, Mistress Darcy,” he announced. “Asgard is on the other side of the Dreaming here.”

“Excellent,” Darcy said, still slightly out of breath. “Thank you, Jonas.”

A nictitating membrane flicked over Jonas’ eyes. “You’re very welcome, Mistress.”

Darcy stepped away from the Other Mother and reached toward the diaphanous membrane between Waking and Dreaming. It was easier to enter and exit the Dreaming through someone’s dream, but Darcy couldn’t always rely on that, so she had learned to move independently. She pushed at the membrane, stretching it even thinner until it finally began to part.

“Hnoss, take my hand,” Darcy ordered, reaching out to her sister. Hnoss grabbed her hand and held tightly as Darcy pulled them into the Waking. They stumbled at the transition and almost fell again. The Other Mother caught Darcy and kept her on her feet.

“Awk,” Jonas said, fluttering around their heads. “Caw caw awk.”

Darcy straightened and Jonas landed on her shoulder. He was heavier than he looked and Darcy staggered again, catching herself on the Other Mother’s arm. She looked around.

They were in a cobblestone square, surrounded by towering buildings made of gold and crystal, colorful banners fluttering in the cold, salty breeze. Darcy pulled her duster jacket closer around her. The dreamfabric kept her warm under most circumstances, but her face and fingers were already turning red from the cold.

“Well, this is definitely Asgard,” Hnoss said, looking around. No one paid them any heed, the crowd continuing on their business. 

“ _That’s_ a relief,” Darcy muttered. She craned her neck back to look at the tops of the buildings around them. “Which way to the palace?”

“Up,” Hnoss replied, pointing. 

Sure enough, there was a slight incline, as if the whole city had been built on a single, massive hill. The buildings got taller the higher they went, the people better dressed. The city was painstakingly clean, with no smog or pollution. Most people walked or rode on horses while overhead boat-shaped hovercrafts wove between the buildings.

Darcy tried not to be distracted by the landmarks they passed, trying to stay on mission, but she couldn’t help trying to figure out what the massive, floating devices were for. Finally she tugged Hnoss’ sleeve and whispered. “What _are_ those?”

“Shield generator repeaters,” Hnoss replied. “The main generator is in the palace, but when the repeaters are put on-line, the whole city can be protected.”

“Oh,” Darcy replied. “Neat.”

“It is almost impossible to lay siege to Asgard’s capitol from the air,” Hnoss went on. “The Greenmother has identified seven ways to destroy the city, but she could not find a way from the air.”

“Why would she need to destroy the city?” Darcy asked, blinking several times.

Hnoss shrugged. “One never knows.”

“That is… terrifying,” Darcy muttered.

The palace was surrounded by tiered gardens that went on for several city blocks and seemed open to the public. There was a guard on the gate into the palace, but he let them through without a second glance.

“Do they not have security in this place?” Darcy whispered as they passed through the gate.

“We’ve already been scanned for weapons,” Hnoss replied. “And any insurrection can be put down by the Einherjar.”

“Gesundheit,” Darcy replied.

“ _Einherjar_ ,” Hnoss said again impatiently. “The royal guard of Asgard.”

“Ah. right. I knew that,” Darcy lied defensively. Hnoss did not look convinced. Darcy cleared her throat. “Right. Which way to the vault?”

xXx

Loki paced the boundaries of his quarters. It had taken Býleister and three of the War Chiefs to get him safely out of the throne room. His brother had taken him straight to his quarters and instructed him to remain there until he was called for.

He had seen Daniel appear and collect Darcy and Hnoss, so he was not concerned with their safety. It was Baldr that he worried about. Baldr was not one to keep anything to himself, so Loki was fairly certain that all of Agard now knew that he was truly a Jötun.

Which meant he could never return to Asgard.

He had made the decision not to return to the realm of his childhood on his own, but to be _forbidden_ from returning was a different matter altogether.

Not to mention what this would do to his mother. Frigga. And Odin, as well. The citizens of Asgard discovering that Odin purposely and knowingly concealed a Jötun among them could destabilize Odin’s rule, leaving Asgard wide open for civil war.

That was not his problem, Loki told himself ruthlessly. Not anymore. He did not care at all if Asgard burned to ashes. They could all go to Hel for all he cared.

But that was not quite true, was it?

He shoved those thoughts aside. He needed to focus on surviving the next few hours, then the next two days, until Darcy returned with the Casket of Ancient Winters and he could leave this gods-forsaken realm forever.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Angrboða slipped in. “Are you well, my prince?” they asked quietly.

“I am fine,” Loki snapped. “What happened with the delegation?”

“They departed without further incident, Your Majesty.”

“And Laufey?” Loki asked. “What of him?”

“He is furious, Your Majesty,” Angrboða replied. “Laufey King said that if that was how Asgard treated his heir, then war is what they would get in return.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Loki scoffed. “A war would destroy Jötunheimr.”

Angrboða shrugged. “Laufey King seems implacable on this, Your Majesty.”

“Stop calling me that,” Loki snarled. “My name is _Loki_.”

Angrboða blinked three times in quick succession. “You wish me to… call you by your given name?” they asked, uncertain.

“Yes,” Loki replied, tempering his tone. “I do.”

“Very well… Loki.” Angrboða smiled faintly. “Are you hungry, Loki?”

“No,” he said shortly. “I could not eat. Not after _that_ disaster.”

“I will bring you wine, then,” Angrboða said. “And _té._ ”

“Thank you, Angrboða,” Loki said sincerely. “You have been good to me. I thank you.”

Angrboða bowed deeply. “It has been my pleasure, Your-- Loki. It has been my pleasure, _Loki_.” They bowed deeply and left Loki alone with his thoughts once more.

Loki rubbed the skin under the thorn manacle on his left wrist. Now that he was mere days from removing them, they irritated him all the more. The lack of his magicks was stifling.

Angrboða returned quickly, carrying a tray with a bottle, two goblets, and two wooden cups. Jötnar did not eat or drink anything hot, so their version of tea was dried mushrooms steeped in lukewarm water. The mushrooms had a soporific effect, serving to calm and soothe the drinker. He would gladly partake of the _té_ now. He needed to be calmed and soothed.

They sat at the low table in the center of the room and sipped at the _té_. It had an earthy, almost bitter taste, softened by the addition of a pinch of rock salt, of all things. It went to work quickly; Loki felt his tension begging to bleed away within minutes.

“Are you certain you wish to leave us?” Angrboða finally broke the silence. “Could you find no reason to stay?”

Loki put his wooden cup down. “I am sorry, Angrboða. But I have my wife and my children. Jötunheimr is no place for those of warm blood.”

“The War Chiefs will never accept Býleister as their king,” Angrboða said. “He is not of the royal line.”

“I doubt they would have truly accepted me,” Loki admitted. He felt loose-limbed and his words came with difficulty. He reached for the goblet of wine, but his hand did not obey his commands and he only succeeded in knocking the goblet over. He tried to frown and couldn’t.

This was not how the _té_ should be affecting him. He made as if to stand and collapsed backward onto the floor. “What… What is happening…” his speech slurred and he could not finish his question.

Angrboða got to their feet and circled the table to crouch next to him. “I am sorry, Loki,” they said softly, their expression sad. “I did not wish things to be like this.” They easily pulled Loki to his feet and slung his arm over their shoulders. They half-carried, half-dragged Loki to the bed and carefully lifted him onto it, laying him onto his back.

“You will not remember this,” Angrboða told him. “It will be better this way.”

“What… are… you…” Again, Loki couldn’t finish his question.

Angrboða climbed onto the bed beside him and began to unfasten his vest. “The laws require a king of the royal line,” they said. “And if you will not be Laufey’s heir, then you will need to give one in your place.”

They pulled the vest open, baring Loki’s chest, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his sternum. “You will sleep soon,” they told him. “And you will not remember. It will be a mercy.”

“No,” Loki managed, but he could not lift his hands to push them away. “Please… no.”

“We have no choice, you and I,” Angrboða said. They brushed a few strands of hair from Loki’s forehead. “We are victims of fate and tradition, as are we all. But you will sleep, and it will soon be over. Sleep, Loki.”

His eyes closed of their own volition, and he spiraled down into darkness, fighting all the way.


	8. The Queen Mother

According to Hnoss, they were almost to the weapons vault when everything went off the rails. Darcy heard the yelling from behind them and turned to see three extremely tall men in golden armor bearing down on them.

“Oh, shit,” she said, freezing in place like a deer caught in a truck’s headlights.

“Make them sleep,” suggested Jonas.

“I don’t know how,” Darcy protested.

“For the  _ love  _ of the  _ Morrigan _ ,” Hnoss muttered under her breath, and stepped forward, green sparks flowing from her fingers.

“No!” Darcy exclaimed, grabbing at Hnoss’ arm. “You can’t hurt them!”

“Why  _ not _ ?” Hnoss snapped.

“Because they haven’t done anything wrong,” Darcy protested.

And by then it was too late. The Einherjar were upon them, leveling their spears at the three women and the raven. “Who are you?” one demanded. “You are not authorized to be here!”

“Um,” Darcy said eloquently. “Um, I’m Darcy… Gersemi. From the Greencoven. This is my sister Hnoss. We’re from the Greencoven.”

“You  _ said _ that already,” Hnoss said, rolling her eyes.

“I  _ know _ ,” Darcy huffed at her. “I’m not used to people pointing  _ spears _ at me, so forgive me for being a little nervous.”

There was a blur of movement in front of them, and the Einherjar stepped back, looking around in confusion. Their spears had vanished from their hands. Someone cleared their throat behind Darcy and she twisted to look.

The Other Mother stood with one hand on her hip. She held all three spears in the other hand, the butts propped against the floor. “What?” she asked defensively in the face of Darcy’s shock. “You said the spears made you nervous.”

One of the Einherjar, the one that had spoken, touched his belt, and a klaxon sounded deep in the palace, sounding like hunting horns and echoing off the golden walls.

“ _ Now _ you’ve done it,” Hnoss said irritably.

“ _ What _ is all of this clamor?” demanded a woman’s voice. A moment later, the woman herself stepped out from behind a pillar. She was tall, but not as tall as the Einherjar, wearing a sky-blue dress and a gray shawl that looked as light and soft as a cloud. Her red-gold hair was pulled back from her face and tucked under a gold circlet set with blue stones.

The Einherjar snapped to attention. “Your Highness!” they barked out at the same time. “We have apprehended these intruders,” the first one continued, glaring at Darcy.

The woman raised her eyebrow and glanced at the Other Mother, who still held the spears. “I… see. And is this why you have sounded the palace alarms?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Well, turn them off. I will take charge of the intruders from here.”

“But, Your Highness,” the Einherjar tried to protest.

“Captain Sigurd,” Queen Frigga said sternly, as one would speak to a naughty child. “I am more than capable of escorting my  _ daughter-in-law _ to my sitting rooms.  _ Clearly _ she had simply become lost.”

The Captain ogled Darcy for a long moment. “Yes… Your Highness,” he said slowly, and touched his belt again. The klaxon immediately shut off.

“Your mother-in-law is the  _ Queen of Asgard _ ?” Hnoss hissed at Darcy.

“Uh,  _ yeah _ ,” Darcy whispered back. “She’s Loki’s  _ mom _ .”

“I thought he was just some offshoot of the royal family,” Hnoss muttered. “Second son of a second son or something.”

“Well, he  _ is _ the second son,” Darcy replied. “Of the  _ king _ .”

“ _ Faen _ ,” Hnoss whispered.

Queen Frigga shooed the Einherjar off, not even allowing them to retrieve their spears from the Other Mother, and then turned to Darcy.

“Hello, my daughter,” she said with a kind smile. “I did not expect the pleasure of your company this day.”

Darcy blushed bright red like a chastised child and ducked her head. Frigga was intimidatingly beautiful, and being this close to her again made Darcy tongue-tied. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Why should you apologize for coming to visit me?” Frigga asked gently. “You’re the only daughter I have, and the only one I’m  _ likely _ to, judging from the actions of my other two sons. You are welcome here whenever you choose to come.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, caught off guard.

Frigga gestured gracefully. “This is your sister, yes? Loki mentioned her when we were at the Greencoven for your wedding.”

“Uh… yeah,” Darcy said. “This is Hnoss, my older sister. And this is Jonas,” she added, pointing to the raven on her shoulder.

Frigga nodded toward Jonas. “You are welcome here, Raven, as are all your kind.”

Jonas bobbed his head respectfully. “I am honored, Your Highness.”

Frigga looped her arm through Darcy’s and tugged her along, as inexorable as a glacier moving toward the sea. “Come and have some tea with me,” she said. “I think we have a great deal to catch up on.” She glanced over her shoulder at the Other Mother. “You may leave those spears anywhere,” she said breezily.

The Other Mother immediately dropped the spears with a terrific clatter and trotted after her mistress as she was escorted back away from the weapons vault.

Darcy said nothing until they reached Frigga’s receiving room, where a tea service had already been laid out as if Frigga had been expecting them all along. There was even a perch for Jonas. The Other Mother bluntly refused an offer of a seat and chose to stand behind Darcy’s chair.

Frigga poured each of them, including Jonas, a cup of tea before she settled back in her chair, raised her cup to her lips, and smiled secretively.

“So,” she said. “Why are you  _ really here? _ ”

Darcy hesitated and glanced at Hnoss, who shrugged as if to say “It’s up to you.” She turned back to Frigga and chewed on her lower lip. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked suddenly.

Frigga’s eyes flashed. “I was born and raised at the Greencoven, my dear. I would not suggest trying to silence  _ me _ with magicks.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. So it was  _ magick _ that she used when she influenced other people, not some mystical innate divinity. Which made sense; her mother was, after all, the Goddess of Magick.

“I’m so sorry,” Darcy said. “I just… I don’t know if we can trust you.”

Hnoss, who had been taking a sip of her tea, choked at Darcy’s honesty. She tried to recover by coughing discreetly, but only managed to inhale more tea. Darcy obligingly thumped her on her back, only stopping when Hnoss sent her a murderous glare.

“I understand that we do not know each other very well,” Frigga said, blessedly ignoring Hnoss’ distress. “But I assure you I will help you however I can.”

“Okay, then,” Darcy said, figuring she had nothing to lose. “I need the Casket of Ancient Winters.”

Frigga blinked once. She slowly put her tea cup on the table. “May I ask what for?” she asked in a preternaturally calm voice.

“Because Loki is being held hostage by the king of Jötunheimr and he will only release Loki if I give him the Casket,” Darcy replied with a straight face.

Frigga was perfectly still for several eternally long seconds, the same stillness Darcy had seen in Loki; utterly alien and unhuman. Finally she took a deep breath.

“Very well,” she said briskly. “I trust you have a plan?”

xXx

Loki woke up.

The first thing he did was to bolt for the bathing room to throw up. Once his stomach was completely emptied, he sat on the icy-cold stone floor and rubbed his forehead. He remembered Angrboða bringing  _ té _ and wine to his chambers last night, but nothing beyond that.

It was not usual for him to imbibe so deeply that he lost memories. He did not like to lose control of his faculties. But the confrontation with Baldr must have disturbed him deeply.

He got to his feet, rinsed his mouth, and washed his face. Jötnar did not bathe often, due to the fact they did not sweat, and bathing often only involved standing outside and rubbing down with snow. But Loki missed invigorating cold showers and soothing hot baths. His skin, more now today than the past few months, felt unclean and stale.

He dressed and tested the door to his chambers. It was not locked. It had not been locked in some time; not that he had any desire to wander the castle. But now he wished to speak with Laufey, and was not in the mood to wait for a summons.

He knew the way to the throne room, and walked it briskly, ignoring anyone he passed in the hallways. Most of them were servants and inclined their heads respectfully to him as he passed, stepping out of his way.

Laufey was not alone in the throne room. Ygrâl and three other War Chiefs stood with the king around the cartograph table, speaking in low growls.

“...not fit to be king,” Ygrâl was saying. “He was raised soft by warm-bloods on Asgard. He knows nothing of our ways.”

“You have said this many times, Ygrâl,” Laufey said warningly. “And it moves me not now as it did not before.”

“You saw how the boy-prince of Asgard reacted to just the sight of him!” Ygrâl protested, gesturing widely. “He declared war on us immediately!”

Loki’s eyes widened. Baldr had declared war on Jötunheimr? He was a bigger fool than Loki had thought, and Loki’s opinion of him was already very low. Loki beseeched the ancestors of Odin Borson that the Allfather would wake soon from his slumber and put Baldr back in his place.

An idea suddenly occurred to Loki. Once Darcy returned with the Casket and he was set free, there was only one path ahead of him, only one way to avert the bloodshed that was coming.

He would need to find Thor.

He grimaced at the thought. It amused him to think of Thor in exile, his powers stripped from him. It had been long overdue for Thor to be knocked down a peg or seven. Seeking his elder brother out and begging for his help was not a savory thought, given that Loki was the reason for Thor’s exile in the first place. Thor would be well within his rights to tell Loki to go to Hel and refuse to help at all.

“If you have nothing useful to add to this council, Ygrâl, then do not open your mouth at all,” Laufey growled, his red eyes flashing. “Grindalokki is my firstborn son, the only son of my line, and he  _ will _ be king after me.”

_ Not if Darcy returns with the Casket _ , Loki thought to himself. He leaned against a pillar, blending in with the shadows, and settled in to watch.

“He bears the marks of your line, but he is  _ not _ one of us,” Ygrâl protested. “Never before have we had a  _ smárvolk _ lead us as king. He can not lead us into battle. He cannot wield the Winter Sword. He is  _ not _ a Jötun.”

Laufey placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, his gaze murderous. “ _ I _ have led you into battle, Ygrâl.  _ I _ wield the Winter Sword. And if you continue this treasonous speech while I am still king, I will mount your head on the castle walls as a warning to any others who agree with you. Am I understood?”

Ygrâl was silent for a long, sullen moment. “Yes, Laufey King,” he muttered at length.

“Leave me now,” Laufey ordered, straightening again. “Your presence has caused me a headache.”

The War Chiefs filed out, grumbling under their breaths. Once the massive doors had swung shut behind them, Loki slipped out of the shadows and padded silently toward the king.

“Father,” he greeted as he reached the table. The word felt foreign in his mouth, as if he had never spoken it before. But it did not hurt to curry Laufey’s favor, in case the king had the mind to renege on his agreement with Darcy.

Laufey looked up in surprise. “Grindalokki. How long have you been there?”

“Only long enough to catch the end of that conversation,” Loki assured him. “I see Baldr did not do me any favors.”

“No, he did not,” Laufey agreed gravely. “It seems our people are headed for war once again, my son.”

“Perhaps not,” Loki said. “When Darcy brings you the Casket of Ancient Winters, Asgard will not dare face you in battle.”

“We will see,” Laufey murmured. He did not seem to have much confidence in Darcy’s ability to obtain the Casket from Odin’s weapons vault. That did not sit well in Loki’s stomach. He could feel his innards churning with worry.

“But in the meantime, I must now assemble our armies, which have sat idle for a generation,” Laufey went on.

Loki had no memory of the first war between Asgard and Jötunheimr, as he had been an infant at the time. But he had heard plenty of stories as a child, and even as an adult. This new war would, as the first had, most likely cover all of the Nine Realms in bloodshed, including his wife’s beloved Midgarðr.

Loki’s stomach twisted again and he retched, expelling his stomach contents once more, this time all over the table.


	9. The Line of Laufey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter, my peeps. I'm going to try to get a longer one posted later this week. I'm making good progress with my original novel and met my word goal for January.
> 
> the_dark_becomes_her is almost done with the illustrations for my children's book, Haizea Wolf. We will be publishing that together, and if anyone is interested in purchasing, I will let you know when it is ready to order. I also have hardcover copies of A Profound Silence and A Bittersweet Dream ready for order, so if you are interested in one of those, I am selling them at cost. You can email me at sinead@sineadsmith.com. Also if anyone is interested in a hardcover version of This Is Gospel, I may be able to make that happen.

Darcy froze in place, her teacup halfway to her lips. “Wait,” she said in complete disbelief. “You’re going to  _ help _ us?”

Frigga took a short, sharp breath and folded her hands in her lap. “Let me tell you something about Loki’s childhood so that we understand each other,” she said softly. “Loki is very different from his brothers. He always has been. He despises war as much as his brothers love it. And to despise war in Asgard is… frowned upon.”

Darcy put her teacup down and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go on,” she said, trying to sound neutral.

“As such, Loki’s childhood was…  _ difficult _ . He was eternally compared to his older brother and eternally found wanting. The only place he found true acceptance was the Coven, and he was snatched away from there against his will.”

“So I’ve heard,” Darcy nodded.

Frigga gave her a stern look and Darcy decided to stop interrupting. “And through all of this I did… not enough,” Frigga went on. “I could have done more. I could have  _ always _ done more.” She straightened, placing her palms flat on the table. “And this nonsense has gone on far enough. So  _ yes _ . I will help you steal from my husband’s weapons vault, if that means bringing my son home safely. But you must do something for me in return.”

“What is it?” Hnoss asked before Darcy could speak. “What would we owe for your assistance?”

“I want you to find Thor and bring him back here, to Asgard. I cannot use the Bifrost to bring him home, but you know the Ways Between the Worlds. You can fetch him back.”

“What, precisely, do you expect to result from that?” Hnoss asked. “Baldr is King Regent on Asgard, not Thor.”

“Thor is the only one that Baldr will yield to,” Frigga explained. “Baldr has been unchecked for long enough. He will drive Asgard to ruin. He cannot be allowed to rule any longer.”

“Well, on  _ that _ we can agree,” Hnoss muttered, raising her own teacup to cover her disdainful expression. Frigga’s return glance was frigid but Hnoss, daughter of Freyja, daughter of Nerþuz, and she was not intimidated by any Greenchild, whether she be a queen or otherwise.

“Okay, so we have to find Thor and bring him back, and if we do that, you’ll help us steal from the weapons vault?” Darcy demanded. “Because we are kinda on a time crunch. Laufey only gave us until the full moon on Jötunheimr to bring the Casket.”

Frigga nodded. “Then you have little time. The full moon will be tomorrow night. We will retrieve the Casket, then you will bring Loki here, and he will fetch Thor.”

Darcy chewed on her lip. “Ummm…. I don’t think Loki coming to Asgard would be a great idea right now. You see, Baldr kind of saw him in his blue form and--”

“I am aware of what happened,” Frigga interrupted. And Baldr has issued a decree declaring Loki a traitor to Asgard. But that matters not. If Thor were to return and unseat Baldr--”

“What’s to say Thor won’t do the same?” Darcy demanded, feeling a hot flame of anger on Loki’s behalf. “You taught your sons to hate the Frost Giants and boy, howdy did it fuck Loki  _ up _ . Why would Thor treat Loki any differently than Baldr?”

“Because unlike Baldr, Thor actually  _ loves _ Loki,” Frigga replied firmly. “They are close enough in age to be practically twins, and they were inseparable as boys. Thor adores Loki, though he would die rather than admit it. Thor would die before he allowed Loki to come to harm.”

Darcy considered that for a long time. It was quite the endorsement. And she knew a little what that felt like. Both of her new siblings were older than her, but Jesse had been her brother for a long time, and she would never let  _ anything _ happen to the kid.

“Okay,” She finally agreed. “We have a deal.”

“Excellent,” Frigga said. “Now. Taking from the weapons vault will not be easy.”

Darcy frowned. “But… you’re the  _ queen _ . Can’t you just walk up and tell the guards to let us in?”

“If my husband were awake, it would be,” Frigga replied. “But Baldr has placed additional wards around the vault, wards only he and Lorelei can undo.”

Darcy’s spin straightened and she slammed her hand down on the table. “Lorelei is  _ here _ ?” she spat. “On Asgard?”

It was Frigga’s turn to frown. “No. Why?”

“She killed my friends,” Darcy replied through gritted teeth. “I owe her pain.”

The Other Mother, who up to this point had been all but invisible, leaned forward eagerly, placing one hand on the back of Darcy’s chair. Darcy glanced backwards somewhat nervously. “Down, girl,” she muttered, and the Other Mother subsided with visible reluctance.

“I can break any ward that Lorelei can build,” Hnoss said confidently.

“I believe you can,” Frigga replied, nodding. “Once you are through the wards, you will need to deal with the Destroyer.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous,” Darcy said sarcastically. “What is that?”

“It is a creature made from metal and magick, and it breathes fire,” Frigga replied.

“I will handle that,” the Other Mother spoke up.

Frigga eyed the Other Mother for a moment. “And who, or  _ what  _ exactly are  _ you _ ?”

“I am a Nightmare,” the Other Mother said proudly.

“ _ My _ Nightmare,” Darcy added. “I created her.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Frigga murmured. “You are also the daughter of Draumr, not just Freyja. Forgive me. I almost forgot.” She seemed lost in thought for several moments, then shook her head. “Once you have disabled the Destroyer and retrieved the Casket, you will need to safely exit the vault and find a Way off Asgard, before the Einherjar find and arrest you. If they do, I will not be able to help you any further.”

“I can take us into the Dreaming from the vault,” Darcy replied, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

Hnoss snorted. “And get lost in the Shifting Zones again? No, thank you.”

Jonas cawed loudly, startling the women. “I can guide Mistress Darcy through the Dreaming,” he announced. “That is my task.”

“Well then,” Friggaa said with a surprisingly sly smile. “It appears we have a plan.”

xXx

Loki did not have much confidence in the Jötun physician. He had no soul forge, no blood reader, no medicines other than bark and mushrooms and dried leaves and flowers kept in jars made of cloudy crystal. But Laufey seemed convinced the physician would discover the source of Loki’s malady.

The physician was very old; his blue-black hair was mostly white now. His tribal markings were marred by scars on his hands and arms and deep wrinkles on his face. He was introduced only as Leidolf.

“Breathe out,” Leidolf instructed in a creaky voice, and when Loki obeyed, he leaned forward to sniff Loki’s breath. “Hmm,” he said. He took a needle made from bone and pricked the pad of Loki’s finger. When a bead of black blood welled up, Leidolf licked it off. He laughed rustily at Loki’s expression of disgust.

“We may not have fancy forges and complicated machines here, princeling,” the old physician said. “But a Jötun’s senses are a match for any Asgardian invention.” He turned to Laufey. “The boy has been dosed with  _ týnarót _ .”

Loki’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the suddenly thunderous expression on Laufey’s face. “What is  _ týnarót _ ?” he demanded.

“It is a root that grows in the valleys between the mountains,” Laufey said darkly. “It causes whoever to ingest it to forget the previous few hours.”

“And it makes one sick as a  _ dwølv _ after,” Leidolf added. 

“Who did you last eat and drink with?” Laufey demanded.

Loki frowned, rubbing his forehead. He remembered drinking wine and  _ té _ , but the memory of anything else was growing vaguer by the moment. “Someone brought me drink last night. I believe I… trusted them?”

“Then that is a short list,” Laufey said dryly. “I did not, and Býleister was with me, which leaves…” he trailed off. “Angrboða,” he said in a low, murderous tone. “But why would he… What purpose would he have to drug you?”

Loki shook his head. “I--I do not remember anything else.”

Laufey went to the door of the healer’s chambers and pulled it open. “Bring Angrboða to me immediately,” he ordered of his manservant. He turned back to Leidolf. “Run further tests on my son. I want to know if he was given anything else.”

Loki grimaced but consented when Leidolf began his examination. The old physician listened to Loki’s heart and lungs, examined his eyes and his tongue, drew blood and mixed it with different powder so he could study the results.

Angrboða arrived during the examination. They bowed before Laufey, their expression perfectly blank. “Yes, my king? How may I serve you?”

“Did you dose my son Loki with  _ týnarót _ ?” Laufey demanded without preamble.

Angrboða straightened and went still as stone, their expression still unreadable. “Yes, my king,” they replied.

Laufey’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you have a very,  _ very _ good reason for doing so.”

“I fulfilled my oath, my king,” they said flatly. “I preserved the line of Laufey.”

“Preserved my line?” Laufey echoed in a low growl. “And just  _ how _ did you achieve that feat?”

“I believe I know, Laufey King,” Leidwolf called, looking up from the line of blood samples. Loki stared at the physician with dread pooling in his stomach.

“What did you find, Leidolf?” Laufey turned toward the old doctor.

“It appears, my king,” Leidolf said slowly. “That your son is pregnant.”


	10. The Fall of the Destroyer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sweets! I promised you another, longer chapter, and I delivered! I'm quite pleased with this chapter, and I hope you are too.
> 
> In other news, I just received my brand-new copies of the hardcover A Profound Silence and A Bittersweet Dream and they are beautiful! I love them so much! If anyone is interested in purchasing a copy, please let me know!
> 
> I am still working on my original novel. I am hoping to write 8k words a month this year, and have it finished by December. I will probably publish that with Lulu if anyone is interested in giving it a look!

“This is where I leave you,” Frigga whispered, glancing behind them. “If I am discovered helping you…” she did not finish the sentence. “Let us pray that Odin wakes soon.”

“Your mouth to god’s ears,” Darcy muttered. She eyed the disappointingly non-descript doors in front of them. “You sure this is the place?” she asked Hnoss after Frigga had hurried away.

“If you were storing the galaxy’s most dangerous weapons in a secret vault, you would not want to  _ advertise  _ it, would you?” Hnoss replied. She gestured with one hand, sending a tiny green spark toward the doors. A few inches before it would have reached them, it impacted an invisible barrier with a flash of white light.

“That must be the wards,” Darcy said with a grimace. “Can you get past them?”

Hnoss sent Darcy a withering look. “First I must  _ identify  _ them, sister. But I  _ am _ one of the best ward-breakers in the Coven.”

“I believe in you,” Darcy replied, and gave her a double thumbs-up.

It took fifteen nerve-wracking minutes for Hnoss to break the wards. Darcy, Jonas, and the Other Mother stood guard while Hnoss rocked, muttered, gestured, and sang her way through the wards. There was a sudden all-mighty  _ CRACK _ , a flash of light, and then the palace alarms activated.

“Shit!” Darcy yelled, and lunged for the doors. “We gotta go!” She shoved the doors open and hurried through. A long, narrow, and rail-less bridge stretched out in front of them. “Would this be a bad time to mention I am scared of heights?”

“Yes, it would,” Hnoss snapped, and stepped onto the bridge first. She offered her hand to Darcy. “I won’t let you fall,” she promised.

Jonas swooped and fluttered over their heads. “I will wait here,” he cawed. “I will keep watch for the guards.”

“Okay, cool, whatever,” Darcy said, taking Hnoss’ hand. The Other Mother brought up the rear as they shuffled carefully down the bridge, hearts pounding in their ears.

The bridge finally terminated into a ruler-straight pathway with alcoves on both sides. Darcy glanced into the first alcove on the right and saw a pedestal with some kind of giant, mechanical eye resting atop it. She shuddered in disgust and hurried on.

“There it is!” Hnoss exclaimed, pointing ahead of them.

At the end of the pathway, in front of a wall of cloudy glass, a glowing blue-white cube with handles sat on its own pedestal. Darcy was tempted to say ‘That was easy,’ but she didn’t, because she wasn’t stupid.

It was, unfortunately,  _ not _ that easy.

The cloudy glass wall suddenly began to divide into diamond shapes that then vanished, revealing a thirty-foot metal automaton. It stepped forward with a shriek of grinding metal plates.

“Oh.” Darcy’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

The Destroyer’s face folded open to reveal a red-hot furnace. The Other Mother dove at Darcy’s back, knocking her to the floor just as a lance of white-hot plasma shot from the Destroyer’s gaping maw.

“Stay down,” the Other Mother growled, her eyes going blood-shot. She got to her feet and  _ changed _ . Her muscles bulged grotesquely until she was forced to hunch over, arms dangling almost to the floor. Her fingers grew long, wickedly-sharp claws and tusks protruded from her thick lips. With a banshee screech, she launched herself in the air and landed on the Destroyer’s shoulders.

It reached up ponderously to try to knock her off, but the Other Mother dug her claws into the metal plates that made of the automaton’s skin, piercing easily through. She ripped out several of the strips, easily dodging the resulting blast of plasma.

Hnoss rushed over to Darcy and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go!” she yelled over the sound of the Other Mother’s shrieks. With the Destroyer sufficiently distracted, they darted around the automaton and reached the Casket. Hnoss tried to pick it up and cried out in pain, snatching her hand back. Her palm was bright red and shiny: a sure sign of frostbite.

“Fuck!” Darcy spat. “What the hell are we supposed to do if we can’t even  _ touch _ the goddamned thing?” A tingle on the back of her neck made her grab Hnoss and duck, just as a chunk of super-heated metal flew over their heads and shattered the pedestal to tiny chunks, sending the Casket flying across the slick floor. 

Darcy left Hnoss and scrambled after the casket. She had a flash of inspiration and quickly shrugged out of her dream duster jacket. She threw it over the Casket and tapped it a few times to see if the jacket was insulating as well as she hoped. She was pleased to discover that her idea worked. She bundled the Casket into the jacket and looked up.

The Other Mother had disassembled the Destroyer’s head and torn off its left arm. It lurched around in a drunken circle, spewing plasma and molten metal, still trying to detach the Nightmare.

“I got it!” she yelled as loudly as she could. “Let’s go!”

Jonas winged down from the direction of the ceiling. “The guards are coming!” he croaked urgently, landing heavily on Darcy’s shoulder.

“Hnoss, let’s go!” Darcy yelled again. Hnoss darted toward her, dodging bits of metal and heavy drops of plasma. As soon as her sister reached her, Darcy opened a path into the Dreaming and took them through. 

“What about the Nightmare?” Hnoss asked, panting in pain. She held her wrist with her other hand.

“She’ll be fine,” Darcy muttered, reaching into the pocket of her tunic and pulling out a handkerchief. “She can’t be killed by mortal means. She’ll find her own way back.”

“And leave a trail of death and destruction in her wake,” Hnoss said with a wince as Darcy gently wrapped her injured palm with the cloth.

“Eh,” Darcy shrugged. “They’ll recover.”

“ _ Darcy! _ ”

Her head jerked up at the sound of her brother’s voice. She didn’t see Daniel, but she did see the giant, tentacled Nightmare barrelling straight at them.

“Oh,  _ fuck. _ ”

xXx

Býleister was horrified. Nothing like this had e _ ver _ happened to a member of the royal line. Laufey King had ordered Angrboða imprisoned, probably to keep himself from murdering the sorcerer where they stood.

Grindalokki, however… was a whole different problem. Býleister stood in the healing chambers next to Leidolf, glancing apprehensively to the far corner where a small table had been knocked over and pulled across to block anyone’s view.

“How long has he been like this?” Býleister murmured to the old physician.

“Ever since I told him he was pregnant,” Leidolf replied. He rubbed his chin. “He did not take the news well.”

“I can see that,” Býleister said dryly. “Did you give him something to calm him?”

“He won’t let anyone near him. When I tried he nearly stabbed me.” Leidolf indicated the bandage on his forearm.

Býleister grimaced. “I suppose I can try…” he trailed off reluctantly.

“I would not advise it,” Leidolf warned. “It would be best to leave him be for now. Let him come to terms with his cognition in his own time.”

The door to the chambers opened and Býleister turned to see who had intruded on them, intending to turn them away. He was surprised to see that it was his progenitor.

“Father, what are you doing here?” Býleister asked, going to meet Farbauti. 

“I heard what was done to Grindalokki,” Farbauti said softly, taking one of Býleister hands. “I came to offer him comfort.” As was fitting for the consort of the king, Farbauti was dressed in snow-white skins, soft as the gills of a mushroom and decorated with brightly-colored beads. He wore his hair long in jet-black braids plaited with expensive ribbons bought from traveling tradesmen.

“He does not desire comfort now, Father,” Býleister said gently. “He would do you harm in this state and regret it later.”

“Grindalokki is my son, too,” Farbauti corrected. “I may not have birthed him, but my blood flows in his veins. I  _ will _ see him.”

Býleister could not refuse his progenitor anything he desired; he never could. “Be cautious,” he warned. “He has a knife.”

Farbauti laughed softly. “That does not frighten me. I have knives of my own.” Farbauti slipped past Býleister with his usual grace, nodding to Leidolf as he passed. He knelt on the cold floor in front of the upturned table, resting his hands on his thighs.

“Grindalokki,” he called. “We have not met yet. I am Farbauti. I am your sire.”

There was no answer from the other side of the table. 

“I am sorry that I have not made myself known to you until now,” Farbauti continued, unbothered by Loki’s reticence. “Laufey thought it best that we not meet until you had accepted your role here better. I did not and I do not agree, but he is the king, and even I must do his bidding.”

Farbauti waited for a moment. “I remember holding you for the first time. Laufey’s labor was long and difficult, and you were small and sickly. I despaired for your life. Laufey never gave up hope that you survived, but I mourned your loss as if you had perished. I regret that I did not persist in looking for you. We never should have ceased looking for you.”

There was still only silence from the corner. Farbauti sighed. “What was done was… horrific. There are no other words to describe it. And I assure you, Angrboða will be dealt with accordingly. But we wish to help you, my son. We only wish to help you.”

“I don’t need your  _ pity _ ,” came a low snarl from the other side of the table.

“I do not pity you,” Farbauti assured him. “No one here pities you. S what you need and we will assist you however we can.”

“I need to be  _ alone _ .”

“I do not think that is true,” Farbauti replied. “I think you are frightened, and you are unwilling to admit it.”

He was met with silence once more. “I was frightened, too, when I discovered I was with child,” Farbauti said. “Children born of the king's consort do not fare well in Jötunheimr. They are often banished at birth, sent to be raised among the people, so they may not threaten the king’s true children. I did not wish my son to be taken from me.”

Farbauti fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “I begged Laufey to allow me to keep this first son, just one, that I might have a child to raise. We were robbed of you, and it would have been my duty to care for you. I longed for a child for many years, you see. We feared Laufey could not bear any at all.”

Farbauti rubbed his palms along his thighs. “After losing you, I could not bear to lose another child.”

“Then Laufey told me he had found you, that Asgard had taken you away and raised you among them. And my heart broke in two because I was so,  _ so _ happy you were alive. But I knew what the Asgardians must have told you of us, of your own people, and I wept for you.”

He paused before going on. “Grindalokki, whatever you choose to do next, whatever decision you make, I will support you with all my heart. I will not allow any harm or scorn to befall you. I give you my word.”

There was a long silence while everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath.

“I… I do not want this child,” came the quiet admission. “I do not wish to bear another.”

“Then there will be no child,” Farbauti said firmly. “Leidolf will mix you a potion for you to drink, and there will be no child. No one in Jötunheimr is ever forced to carry a child they do not want.”

The table moved a few inches, an invitation for Farbauti to pull the table fully out of the way. Loki sat with his back to the corner, a silver knife in one hand and his knees drawn to his chest. He stared up at Farbauti with wide, frightened eyes.

Farbauti offered his son his hand. “I will not leave your side, my child,” he promised. “Not until you bid me to.”

“I have a son,” Loki blurted, and then grimaced. He had clearly not intended to say that.

Farbauti smiled. “I should like to meet him someday. My grandson.”

“You would not like him,” Loki said softly. “He is a half-breed.”

“He is my grandson,” Farbauti said firmly. “I should like to meet him regardless.” Farbauti looked up at Leidolf. “How long will it take you to make an abortive potion?”

“I--I will need to speak to Laufey king…” Leidolf said, uncertain.

“My son has already made his decision,” Farbauti said with a forbidding glare. “You will make the abortifacient immediately.”

“Yes, my lord,” Leidolf muttered. “It will take me… two days. Perhaps three.”

“Very well.” Farbauti offered his hand to Loki again. “In the meantime I will return my son to his chambers.”

This time Loki accepted his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Where is Angrboða?” he demanded.

“He is imprisoned in the dungeon,” Býleister offered.

“You do not have to see him,” Farbauti said quickly.

Loki’s expression grew murderous. “Oh, but I do.”


	11. A Firstborn's Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya peeps! Got an extra long chappie for you today! Hope you enjoy!

Darcy curled up in a hollow in the ground, clutching the Casket to her chest. The battle raged around her, the air filled with screaming, and the horrific squelching noises from the Nightmare. Hnoss crouched over her protectively, her hands outstretched as she projected a dome-shaped shield over them.

“I will not fear,” Darcy muttered. “Fear is the mind-killer. I will face my fear. I will let it pass through me and over me. And when it has passed there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

“If that is a spell, it is  _ not working _ ,” Hnoss gritted out from between clenched teeth.

“It’s a spell to keep me calm,” Darcy retorted.

“Now might be a good time to be not calm,” Hnoss snapped. “If you have anything up your sleeve, sister,  _ now is the time _ .”

“I’m just a baby goddess who has no idea what the  _ fuck _ I’m doing!” Darcy yelled back.

“But you  _ are _ a goddess,” Hnoss snarled. “ _ Be _ a goddess!”

“Fine!” Darcy exclaimed, sitting up. She whipped the jacket off the Casket without thinking and grabbed it with both hands. It was immensely cold, but not painful to the touch. “Get out of my way!”

Hnoss dropped the protective shield and rolled out of the way as Darcy stood up, took aim at the monster, and let the Casket loose. A tightly-focused whirlwind of arctic air, ice, and snow raged from the Casket, enveloping the errant Nightmare and instantly coating it with a thick layer of ice. A rime of frost ran up Darcy’s arms to her shoulders, turning her skin white and sparkling.

Silence instantly befell the battlefield. Darcy dropped the Casket to the ground and shook the frost off her arms. “Ow, ow, ow,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Cold, cold, cold.”

“Very nicely done,” Hnoss said approvingly with a smile.

Daniel came over to join them. “I see you got the Casket of Ancient Winters,” he observed.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, nudging the Casket with the toe of her shoe. “Let me tell you, that thing packs a wallop.”

“Good thing too,” Daniel replied, looking over his shoulder. “I think we should be able to destroy it now.”

“Awesome.” Darcy threw the jacket over the casket again. “We have to get this to Jötunheimr as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Daniel offered.

“No, we got this,” Darcy replied. “I don’t think Laufey would try to hurt us.”

“You don’t  _ think _ ?” Hnoss echoed tiredly, rubbing one of her shoulders. “That’s reassuring.”

“Are you coming or not?” Darcy shot back.

“Of course I’m coming,” Hnoss said, straightening. “Grandmother would kill me if I let you go alone.”

Darcy gingerly picked up the Casket and tucked it under one arm. “We’d better get going, then.” Jonas fluttered down to land heavily on Darcy’s shoulder. “You gonna be able to get us there, J-man?”

“That is my purpose,” Jonas croaked dryly.

“Lead the way, then.”

xXx

Before he would allow Loki to see Angrboða, Farbauti insisted that the warden duties of Loki’s thorn manacles be transferred to him. Loki was not certain how he felt about his sire becoming the warden of his captivity, but he had faith that Darcy would return soon with the Casket, and he would be free.

Darcy. 

What in the dark depths of Helheimr was he going to tell Darcy? How could he have let this happen to him? It was the most shameful thing he had ever experienced, and it was all he could do not to devolve into a snapping, growling, feral animal, lashing out in its pain. There was no telling if he could hold himself together in the face of Darcy’s scorn at his betrayal.

Once the thorn manacles’ wardenship was transferred, Farbauti led Loki down into the deep dungeons under the palace. The dungeons were icy-cold, the damp on the stone walls freezing over in black sheets. The ceiling grew thick with phosphorescent fungi; the only illumination in the labyrinthine prison.

Farbauti paused in front of a cell door and placed his hand on the lock. It began to move of its own accord, spinning open until Farbauti could pull the door open.

Angrboða knelt in the center of the cell, hands resting on thighs. They faced the back wall, head down as they meditated, or waited. Loki gestured for Farbauti to stay outside and stepped into the cell.

“If you have come seeking my repentance, I will not give it,” Angrboða said quietly. “I will not apologize for what I have done.”

“I am not here for an apology,” Loki replied. He stood a pace away from Angrboða, facing their back.

“Then what do you seek, son of Laufey? Vengeance?”

Loki touched the knife he had stolen from the healer’s chambers, tucked into his belt. Farbauti had not asked him to relinquish it, and neither had he volunteered it back. It would be the easiest thing to draw it and thrust it into the diminutive Jötun’s neck. It would please him to watch the black blood pour out of their throat in waves, pumped out by a dying heart.

But that would be too much a mercy.

“I am not here for vengeance,” Loki replied, proud of how calm his voice sounded.

Angrboða bowed their head. “Then what  _ do _ you want, Grindalokki?”

“I want you to suffer,” Loki replied honestly. “I want you to know that your plan failed. I will not give Laufey an heir. You will live out the rest of your miserable life in this dungeon knowing that you accomplished nothing at all.”

Angrboða’s head raised again. “You will kill the child you carry?” they asked in horror.

“I carry no child,” Loki snarled. “And I kill no one. I will not pay for your sins.”

Angrboða pushed to their feet. “If you do not continue the line of Laufey, you have doomed Jötunheimr to a slow death.”

“That is not my doing, and it is not my concern,” Loki said flatly. “Whether Jötunheimr lives or dies is not mine to decide.”

“I did what I must to save my realm,” Angrboða insisted.

“You did what  _ you _ chose to do,” Loki snapped. “And you are fortunate I choose not to take recompense from your flesh. Live, then, knowing that you failed.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the cell, kicking the door shut behind him. Farbauti touched the lock again and it secured itself once more.

“Are you satisfied?” Farbauti asked gently.

“Satisfaction is not in my nature,” Loki retorted.

Farbauti raised an eyebrow, but was saved from replying by the arrival of a prison guard.

“Lord Consort, Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow. “Laufey King requests your presence at the throne room. A delegation from Asgard has returned.”

“Returned?” Loki echoed, his stomach clenching. “Is Baldr with them?”

“I do not know, Your Highness,” the guard admitted. “Laufey King sent word that you must come quickly.”

“We are on our way,” Farbauti assured the guard, and placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “We should go. Laufey needs our support at this time.”

They had just exited the dungeons when a raven appeared out of thin air and flew directly at Loki’s face with a loud croak. Loki spat a curse and ducked, snatching his knife from his belt. If this was a spy from Asgard, he needed to dispatch it immediately.

But then Hnoss appeared and, a heartbeat later, Darcy, holding a large item bundled in her dream coat. “Loki!” she exclaimed, and shoved the object at Hnoss, who yelped and refused to take the object, stepping backwards away from Darcy.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Darcy said, and practically threw the object at Farbauti so she could leap at Loki, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He caught and held her easily, burying his face into the side of her neck, breathing deeply of the scent of her skin and hair.

“Hi,” Darcy said.

“Hello,” he replied, his voice rough and thick.

She leaned back in his arms so she could see his face. “I made it,” she said gently. 

“I see that,” Loki tried to summon a smile for her and was partially successful. “I can’t imagine Baldr will be pleased when he finds out.”

“Oh, he already knows,” Darcy said with wide eyes. “We barely made it out of there.”

Farbauti unwrapped the object so unceremoniously thrust at him and gasped. “The Casket?” he demanded of Darcy. “You returned the Casket of Ancient Winters?”

“That was the deal,” Darcy replied. She hopped down from Loki’s arms. “Babe, who is this?”

“This is my… sire,” Loki introduced. “Farbauti, this is my bond-mate, Darcy Gersemi of the Greencoven, daughter of Draumr, Master of Dreams.”

“Well met, bond-mate of my son,” Farbauti replied with a bow. “Do you know what you have done for our realm?”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Darcy replied, one hand raising to rest against her stomach. She was nearly ten months into her pregnancy, and the swell of her stomach was finally visible to anyone who knew what to look for.

“We must take this to the king immediately,” Farbauti insisted. “Hurry, before the delegation from Asgard is admitted.”

“Wait,” Darcy said, grabbing Loki’s arm. “Baldr is  _ here _ ? Already?”

“I don’t know if Baldr is here,” Loki told her. “But he did send a delegation.”

“Shit,” Darcy muttered. “That’s not what we planned.”

“ _ Nothing _ has gone according to plan,” Hnoss said dryly.

The raven landed on Darcy’s shoulder and clacked its beak, turning its head this way and that to examine Loki with first one beady, black eye and then the other.

“Darcy, is that…” Loki began uneasily.

“This is Jonas,” Darcy said quickly. “He’s one of my dad’s ravens.”

“I belong to you, Mistress Darcy,” the raven insisted in a scratchy voice.

Loki relaxed slightly. It was tremendously unlucky to kill a raven, and he was reluctant to do so, even if it was an Asgardian spy.

“Hurry,” Farbauti urged. “If Laufey is to properly negotiate with the Asgardians, he will need the Casket.”

Darcy grabbed Loki’s hand and squeezed. “Let’s go!” she said, sounding more excited than Loki felt.

The Asgardians had not been admitted to the throne room when they arrived through the servant’s entrance. Laufey was in council with his War Chiefs. He looked around at their entrance and saw Farbauti holding the Casket. He rose to his feet from the throne and stepped down from the dais.

“It is done,” he said in disbelief. “You have returned the Casket.”

“I have!” Darcy exclaimed, stepping forward and pulling Loki along. “I kept my side of the bargain, Laufey King. Now it’s your turn.”

Laufey glared down at the young woman who, to her credit, did not waver. Darcy stuck her chin out, squared her shoulders, and glared back. Loki found himself torn between amusement and worry.

“You would ask me to choose between my realm and my blood-kin,” Laufey said.

“A deal’s a deal,” Darcy retorted. “Give me back my husband.”

“Husband?” Ygrâl grumbled. “Which of your kin is mated to this warm-skin, Laufey King?”

“I do not recall addressing you, Ygrâl,” Laufey growled at the War Chief. “For once hold your tongue.”

Ygrâl slammed his fist down on the council table. “I will  _ not  _ hold my tongue!” he bellowed. “I will give voice to the concerns we all have! We will  _ not  _ accept some Asgard-tainted runt as our king! Not one who has befouled himself with a warm-blooded whore!”

Loki released Darcy’s hand and pulled a veil around himself, slipping toward the council table unnoticed by anyone.

“Who are you calling a whore, you giant blue buffoon?” Darcy yelled, balling her fists at her side. Her gaze flicked to Loki, seeing through his veils as she always did. She turned quickly back to Ygrâl. “Call me names one more time and I’ll burn your dick off!”

“I could squeeze the life from you like water from a fungus,” Ygrâl snarled, turning to face Darcy. “I will crush you under my heel like the vermin you are.”

“Ygrâl!” Laufey snapped. “You know not to whom you speak. That warm-blood is the daughter of Draumr the Eternal and a Scion of the Endless.”

“Then let Draumr come defend it’s spawn,” Ygrâl raged, gesturing wildly. “Or remove it from my sight.”

“I’ll show you spawn,” Darcy yelled, edging behind Farbauti for safety. “This spawn will kick your ass up between your ears!”

“You will die choking on blood and ice!” Ygrâl took a step toward Darcy but froze when Loki unveiled himself at his side, silver knife digging into the soft part of his abdomen under the rib cage.

“Threaten my wife one more time,” Loki said calmly, “And I will strangle you with your own innards.”

Ygrâl snarled wordlessly and started to move, only to freeze again when Loki dug the point of his knife deeper, drawing a drop of black blood.

“Grindalokki, put your knife away,” Laufey ordered. “Ygrâl, speak another word and I will cut your tongue out of your head myself.”

Loki prodded Ygrâl harder with his knife before stepping back. The glare that the Jötun sent him was murderous. Loki bowed mockingly and tucked his knife back into his belt.

“Farbauti,” Laufey said, tempering his tone. “Release our son from the manacles.”

“Gladly, my king,” Farbauti said with a smile. He stepped to Loki’s side and touched the manacle on Loki’s right wrist. Both manacles dropped from Loki’s wrist with a clang.

It was like waking up from a dream where he could not breathe, or like seeing the sun after years in darkness. Magick flowed back into Loki’s senses and he drank it in like a man stranded in the desert. He raised his hands and snapped his fingers, marvelling at the green flame that danced atop his fingertips.

“Bring me the Casket,” Laufey instructed, reaching out one hand. Farbauti offered it to him with both hands. Laufey took it reverently, and when he touched it, it glowed with bright, blue-white light.

The War Chiefs murmured among themselves, and then twelve of them knelt before the king, leaving Ygrâl standing alone. He growled again but followed suit, falling to one knee and inclining his head.

“Allow the Asgardians to enter,” Laufey rumbled.

Servants pushed the doors open, allowing Baldr to stride in, cape billowing, followed by his lackeys and lick-spittles. Lorelei was noticeably absent. Baldr froze halfway to the dais at the sight of Laufey standing, holding the Casket.

“So it  _ is _ true,” Baldr said. “It was under your orders that the Casket was stolen.”

“It was by my request the Casket was  _ returned _ to us,” Laufey growled. 

“And it was the traitor Loki who stole it, no doubt,” Baldr continued, ignoring the king. He looked around the throne room until he saw Loki, standing with his bloody dagger once more in one hand. “Hello, traitor.”

“Hello, Brother,” Loki replied, vanishing the dagger to be added to his collection in storage. “It seems this war of yours is not going in your favor.”

“We will see,” Baldr muttered, glaring at Loki, who grinned back with a cheerfulness he did not feel. “Laufey, this treachery will not be forgotten.”

“No, it will not,” Laufey replied. “Now run along, little princeling, before your lackeys are frozen where they stand.”

The Asgardian delegation murmured in alarm and moved restlessly behind Baldr. Baldr took a step backwards. “This changes nothing, Laufey!” he exclaimed with a fool’s confidence. “Asgard will destroy this realm, Casket or not!”

Laufey lifted the Casket, the blue glow growing to envelop the king. A rime of frost ran up Laufey’s arm and it was as if the Casket inhaled, preparing to exhale the winter storm.

Baldr beat a hasty and undignified retreat from the throne room, and the servants slammed the doors closed again. Laufey lowered the Casket to the council table. “It will not be long, now, until the bloodshed begins,” he said almost sadly. He turned and looked at Loki. 

“I will not ask you to stand against the one you call brother, but it is in my heart that you would stay here, among us.”

“I cannot,” Loki said, shaking his head. “I will not be a part of this war, nor any others.”

Darcy hurried over to his side and tugged at his vest. Loki leaned over so she could whisper in his ear. “Um, I sort of promised your mom we would find Thor and bring him back to Asgard to stop Baldr,” she said in a rush.

“You met Frigga?” Loki demanded in disbelief. “When?”

“She helped us get the Casket,” Darcy replied.

“She…  _ what _ ?” Loki stared, wide-eyed, at Darcy, unable to finish the question.

“We have to hurry if we’re going to stop Baldr in time,” Darcy insisted.

“Grindalokki?” Laufey called. “You will leave us?”

“Only for a time,” Loki said. “I have a prior obligation that must be met. But I will return, if only to make my farewells.”

Laufey nodded sadly. “I… I cannot begrudge you your happiness, my son. If you must leave, I will not keep you.”

“Know that you are always welcome to return,” Farbauti said softly. “I do desire to meet my grandson.”

“I will bring him here, one day soon,” Loki promised. “But now I must leave.”

Farbauti laid a heavy hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Go with Ymir’s blessing, my son.”

Loki reached out and took Darcy’s hand. “Let’s go,” he told her. “And quickly.”

Darcy reached out her other hand for Hnoss, who had been watching the proceedings silently, and pulled them all into the Dreaming.


	12. The First Odinson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my sweets! I know I have been MIA for a few weeks, but I have a very good reason. You may or may not have heard about it on the news, but Texas had an unprecedented winter storm the likes they have not seen in over 3 decades. The power grid failed to most of the state. Guess where I live? 
> 
> Yup.
> 
> And also I work in public safety/emergency services so we were slammed. We were working 12 and 16 hour shifts trying to hold shit together. We maxxed out our overtime budget for the entire month in a single week.
> 
> And then the very next week I had to have my gallbladder removed. I was on painkillers for 3 days, which make me loopy and narcoleptic. But I am finally back to work, which is primarily where I write, so here. Have a chappie.
> 
> Love,  
> Sinead

“Are you sure he’s on Rhia?” Darcy asked, looking around.

“I could find Thor anywhere in the galaxy, even  _ without _ my powers,” Loki replied dryly. “All you have to do is follow the sound of violence.”

“Well,  _ that’s _ reassuring,” Darcy muttered.

They had stopped briefly at the Greencoven to drop Hnoss off and get new clothing for Loki. For reasons unknown to Darcy, Loki had elected to use her female form when reverting to the Aesir masque. Not that Darcy was complaining; her spouse was drop-dead gorgeous in  _ any _ form. And if that’s what Loki was comfortable with at the moment, then that was fine with Darcy.

Jonas circled down from the sky overhead and landed on Darcy’s shoulder. She was going to have to get used to the weight of the bird; her shoulder was starting to get sore.

“Find anything?” Darcy asked.

“There is an encampment to the south,” Jonas croaked, ruffling his feathers. “And smoke from a battlefield further south than that. The air reeks with the scent of corpses.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that kind of your jam, though?” she asked Jonas, curious about his choice of words.

He gave her a stern look from one beady, black eye. “I haven’t  _ always _ been a raven, mistress.”

Darcy still hadn’t asked where her father’s ravens came from, and decided this wasn’t the time. “Right. Okay. So, south it is?”

“It’s as good a place as any to start,” Loki agreed. “Are you able to walk the distance?”

Darcy pointed to her gently-swollen abdomen. “Don’t let the belly fool you, sister. I got stamina.”

Rather than making a joke of questionable respectability, Loki only smiled thinly and offered Darcy her hand. Darcy frowned up at her spouse, but didn’t say anything. She had no idea what the last few months had been like for Loki or what sort of trauma she had endured. For now it was probably best to just let her be.

The walk to the encampment was not difficult. The part of Rhia the Way connected to was mostly grassland with the occasional stand of wiry, knotty trees. But what Darcy noticed the most was that there was absolutely no wildlife, not even insects. The only sound they heard as they walked was the brush of grass against their legs.

“Is it just me, or is it a little  _ too _ quiet?” Darcy asked in a low voice.

Loki looked around, her pupils shrunk to pinpoints in the bright sun. “It is… suspiciously silent,” she agreed. “I believe you may be right. Something is wrong.”

“It’s creepy,” Darcy muttered, scanning the horizon.

They didn’t speak again until they neared the encampment, the oppressive silence strangling whatever conversation they might have had. But before they could reach the camp, a sound finally broke the stifling quiet.

The thud of heavy, rapid footfalls drew Darcy and Loki to a stop, Darcy shading her eyes from the sun. A mounted warrior approached them at a fast trot; the beast he rode was nothing at all similar to a horse. It had gray, bare skin and long, backward-jointed legs. It came to a stamping halt a few yards away, allowing its rider to level a spear in the two women’s direction. Blue sparks sizzled around the blade of the spear.

“State your name and purpose,” the warrior barked. It was impossible to tell what species the warrior was under the helmet, but to Darcy’s ears it sounded like a male voice.

Loki stepped forward and placed her fist over her heart, inclining her head. “I am Loki Odindóttr of Asgard. This is my wife, Greenlady Darcy Gersemi of the Greencoven. We have come seeking my brother. We heard he may be in the camp yonder.”

The warrior raised the spear until the blade pointed at the sky. “The Aesir are welcome here, Loki Odindóttr. Your people are not our enemies. Neither are the Greenchildren. Be welcome, and let the Law of Hospitality rule us both.”

Loki bowed. “As you say, good sir.”

“Follow me,” the warrior instructed. “I will escort you in.”

They followed the warrior the rest of the way into the camp, reaching the edge in just a few minutes. The camp was made of large, round tents in varying shades of green and brown. Most of the people milling around the camp appeared humanoid, with a few startling exceptions. Pendants twisted and flapped in the breeze, decorated with fantastical animals.

The camp smelled strongly of exotic spices and barnyard odors, making Darcy wrinkle her nose at the combination. “How are we going to find him in all of this?” she asked, waving her hand to encompass the whole camp.

“Who is your kinsman?” the warrior asked Loki. “Perhaps he is known to me.”

“His name is Thor, though he may not use that name.”

“There is no one here that uses that name,” the warrior replied with a nod. “Describe him to me.”

“Gold of hair, blue of eyes, and loud of voice,” Loki said dryly. “He thrives on violence and chaos follows in his wake.”

“Ah,” the Warrior said. “You must mean Donar.”

Loki smiled tightly. “Yes. That must be him.”

The warrior pointed into the camp with the butt of his spear. “Follow the sound of metal ringing. He won’t be difficult to find.”

“Thank you, good sir,” Loki said and gestured for Darcy to take her hand. Darcy obeyed and they set off into the encampment.

No one paid very close attention to them, which told Darcy that security around the camp must be better than it appeared. At first she heard nothing but the hubbub of a busy camp, but eventually her ears picked up the sound of metal striking metal.

At the exact center of the camp, they found a loose ring of women (and not a few men) who were very busy pretending to be busy. And inside that ring was a man.

Despite Loki’s repeated statements that he was nothing like his older brother, Darcy had not expected Thor to look like  _ this. _

He was even taller than Loki, and built like a male-attracted person’s wet dream with muscles more beautiful than even Michaelangelo could sculpt. His hair shone like spun gold in the sunlight, and his eyes were the same color as the clear sky. He wore a pair of leather trousers, a toolbelt, and a short leather apron, and nothing else.

In one gloved hand he held a pair of tongs, the other end resting in the depths of a covered furnace. His face was furrowed in concentration and he gestured to a teenaged boy who crouched by his feet. The boy renewed his efforts with a pair of bellows and the fire surged hotter.

Thor pulled the tongs from the furnace and placed the red-hot piece of metal on a nearby anvil, picking up a massive hammer and raising it over his head. He brought it down with a terrific  _ clang _ that made Darcy flinch from the sound, letting go of Loki's hand to cover her ears.

Before Thor could bring the hammer down a second time, Loki raised her hands to her mouth and called in a startlingly loud voice, “Ho, Thunderer!”

Thor froze with the hammer still over his head, his gaze searching his circle of admirers. When it finally fell on Loki, his eyes widened and he slowly lowered the hammer.

“Loki?” he asked softly. “Is that truly you?”

Leaving Darcy where she stood, Loki pushed through the circle of onlookers. “It is I, brother.”

“Loki!” Thor boomed, a brilliant smile splitting his face in two. He bounded forward and caught Loki up in a spine-cracking embrace, lifting the other off her feet. Loki grunted but endured until Thor finally set her back down.

“You live,” Thor went on, releasing Loki and clapping her on the shoulder. “How is this possible? I saw you fall?”

Loki gestured vaguely. “It is a very long story, brother, and not nearly as interesting as it sounds.”

“Liar,” Darcy muttered to herself.

“But I’m here on more important business,” Loki went on.

Thor laughed. “What business could you have with me? Do you wish me to attend the celebration of your triumphant return?”

“Alas, no,” Loki replied. “It is much graver business. And not for unfriendly ears.”

Thor’s smile faltered. “Yes. I see. Well, come with me then. We will talk in private.” He untied his leather apron and cast it over the horn of the anvil. “You’re free for the rest of the day,” he told the boy who had been eagerly following the conversation between the siblings.

Before following Thor away, Loki glanced back at Darcy and indicated to her to accompany them. Darcy trotted along a few paces behind, struggling to keep up with the long-legged Asgardians.

Thor led them to a smaller, dusty-brown tent and ducked through the opening without looking back. When Darcy’s eyes finally adjusted to the dimmer interior, she saw Thor washing his face from a basin of water.

“What news from home, brother?” Thor asked as he dried his face. “What grave happenings have occurred in my absence?” He lowered the towel and caught sight of Darcy. “Who is this?”

Loki gestured to Darcy to join her. “This is Greenlady Darcy Gersemi, daughter of Freyja, daughter of Nerþuz the Greenmother.”

Darcy glanced up at Loki with a frown, wondering at the distinct lack of Loki mentioning they were  _ married _ , but Loki sent her a warning look and Darcy said nothing.

“Well met, Greenlady Darcy,” Thor said, inclining his head toward Darcy. “I take your presence to mean Loki is once again in favor with the Greencoven.”

“She is,” Darcy replied tersely, trying very hard not to be annoyed with Loki. She very well may have a very good reason to not tell Thor they were married, and just didn’t have the chance to tell Darcy.

Thor tossed the towel onto the narrow cot in the corner. “Come then, Brother. Tell me your tale.”

The story Loki told him was highly edited, telling only of Baldr’s attempts to consolidate his own power and conveniently leaving out any and all mentions of Loki’s time on Jötunheimr. When she finished, Thor frowned and rubbed the short beard clinging to his chin.

“This is… troubling,” Thor said finally. “I did not take our brother to be a tyrant.”

“That is because you never paid any attention to him,” Loki snapped impatiently. “Time is short, brother. We must leave soon.”

Thor sighed deeply and rubbed his beard again. “I am sorry, Loki,” he said at length. “I cannot go.”

Loki blinked. “Why in Hel’s name not?” she demanded.

Thor spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I have been banished; my power stripped from me. Until a time as Father rescinds his order, I cannot return to Asgard.”

“Did you hear nothing I said?” Loki snapped. “Father is in the Odinsleep and Mother herself has called for you.”

Thor shook his head. “Mother does not have the authority to overrule Father’s decisions, even in the Odinsleep.” He gestured towards Loki. “Why am I needed? Are you not a son of Odin? Do you not have a claim to the throne?”

Darcy suspected that the reason she noticed Loki’s wince at Thor’s question was because she was hyper-attuned to her spouse’s expressions. Thor clearly was not.

“I am not… favored… by the people as you are,” Loki said delicately. “They will not accept my rule over Baldr’s.”

“I do not believe that,” Thor said, shaking his head. “You are a mighty warrior! All of Asgard knows of your exploits.”

“Trust me when I say that I am not a suitable candidate,” Loki said between gritted teeth. “For once, set aside your pride and  _ do as you’re told. _ ”

Thor shrugged. “I have been stripped of my powers, Loki. I could not face Baldr and win.”

“We can deal with that later. I’ll think of something.”

“No,” Thor said flatly. “I will not go.”

Before Loki could say anything else, Darcy stepped forward. “I’m pregnant,” she announced. Thor and Loki both stared at her; Thor in curiosity and Loki in surprise.

“I’m pregnant,” she said again. “And Baldr tried to kill me. Knowing that I was pregnant. He tried to kill my step-son and my brother.” She pointed to the wound on her face. “He had his pet witch create a monster and set it loose in my father’s realm, slaughtering my father’s subjects and wreaking havoc. He wants to start a  _ war  _ with Jötunheimr.  _ Millions  _ of people will die.”

She paused to take a deep breath. “And if you refuse to do something about it, and you could, then all of that will be  _ your fault _ .” Which was a lie, and a particularly unfair one, but Thor clearly needed a kick in his pants to get out of his little pity-party, and Darcy was not in the mood to coddle a grown-ass man.

Thor stared at her, blue eyes wide and strangely child-like. His hands clenched and opened several times. “I… did not think…  _ Baldr _ did this?” he asked, sounding helpless.

“That and more,” Darcy replied firmly. “Baldr invoked the Law of Blood against Loki to get him to stand trial for crimes he  _ didn’t _ commit.” Another technical lie, but there just wasn’t time. Darcy refused to feel guilty.

“We  _ need _ your help,” she went on. “You’re the firstborn son of the king. This is  _ your _ responsibility. You  _ have _ to stop Baldr. You’re the only one who can.”

Thor ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “There’s no other way?” he asked, not sounding very hopeful.

“No, there isn’t,” Loki said firmly.

Thor sighed heavily. “Very well. I will return to Asgard with you.”


End file.
